


Dark Sage

by Greatmouse, StormMagnet



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls II, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Horror, F/M, Fish out of Water, Gore, Midoriya Izuku Does Not Have One for All Quirk, Midoriya Izuku Has a Quirk, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Seriously You were warned, U.A. is a University (My Hero Academia)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:49:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 75,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26435206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greatmouse/pseuds/Greatmouse, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormMagnet/pseuds/StormMagnet
Summary: On a normal day, a pathway opened, black sprites poured out while a single child was stolen away. Years later, two emerge, returning to a foreign world one once called home.On a normal day, Inko lost her son. On a normal day, Katsuki lost his best friend. On a normal day, one boy departed the world.On a normal night, two figures returned to a world left behind.
Comments: 98
Kudos: 176





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second fic I'll have ever written, which I am doing a collaboration with StormMagnet, primarily as an editor and guide while he relearns who to write good.
> 
> This is almost all StormMagnet's original ideas, though cleaned up, revised, and rewritten by yours truly to make sure the quality is up to spec and properly delivers on the ideas he is positively bustling with.
> 
> There is, as with in my primary fic, Private Hero: Berserker, limited beta reading done
> 
> -Greatmouse

A savory aroma wafts through the air, filling the nostrils of the sleeping boy, rich and sweet smells of bacon becoming Izuku as he slowly stirs, the scent of freshly made pancakes filling his awakening mind with warm fuzzy feelings of nostalgia for a day which hasn’t happened save for in his dreams. Warmth and the sugary smell of maple syrup cascading over mounds of fluffy pancakes causes a line of drool to fall from the side of his mouth as he finally begins to open his eyes pushing away the dreams of the past year’s events, the failing of his quirk to manifest, his best friend sticking with him despite being quirkless. He was almost 6 years old, and if his quirk hadn’t manifested yet, it wasn’t likely to do so at all, it was a mark which had caused almost all of his friends to abandon him, all except for Kacchan, who despite having one of the coolest quirks, still hung around with him.

‘Though he is way more aggressive,’ Izuku thought of his best friend, self correcting himself, ‘and blunt, but he doesn’t look down on me, so that’s good,’ he finished the thought, rolling over in bed before realizing the scent filling his nose wasn’t the creation of his dreams. Stretching out in bed, Izuku brought his hands to his eyes, rubbing away the dreary sleepiness as a yawn escaped from the green haired boy, his eyes opening slowly as his hands fell to his sides, helping push him upright in bed, gazing through the haze of his half asleep self around his room. Slowly, as he finished a second yawn, Izuku looked next to his bed where his best friend should have been sleeping, only to find an empty futon, the blankets pushed off towards the door.

It took Izuku a few brief moments before coming to the realization as to what was happening, though once the thought finished fully forming, his eyes shot open, sleepiness pushed out of his head. Izuku leapt from bed, full of indignant wrath at his best friend for leaving him behind as he pushed open the door, letting the light of morning shine on his All Might onesie. Breaking into a sprint, Izuku bounded down the hall, allowing a jovial whine and yell to escape, “Kacchan! You were supposed to wait for me!” It was all in good fun, Kacchan was usually a bit like this, leading him and the few other people they had in their friend group - he was a natural leader. Stampeding down the hall, the sight of his mother and best friend filled his eyes, curiously there was also a mound of pillows set up near the couch.

Sadly, his gaze failed to catch the shiny patch of wooden flooring which had been freshly waxed, stepping on the slippery section with his rubber-pad-less footies and sliding on the hardwood, first falling on his butt before careening like a hockey puck into the aforementioned mound of cushions.

A rancorous laugh rippled through the room as Kacchan stepped out of the kitchen, pointing and doubled over with laughter. His fluffy ashen blond hair bouncing ever so slightly with each tremor of his body, the laugh pulling back into a more impish affair as he finally caught his breath, a grin spread across his face, “you were right Auntie! He really did slide like a hockey puck!” Kacchan said with glee, finally composing himself as he walked over, grabbing a pillow and smacking Izuku over the head with the soft thing - which could only mean one thing. 

“Pillow fight!” Mom yelled with a warm smile from the kitchen, just poking her head out. Izuku didn’t waste a moment pulling a pillow from his side, slapping Kacchan across the face with the pillow with childish glee.

Nearly 3 minutes later, their weapons dropped as a ceasefire was agreed upon for the purposes of consuming the breakfast of champions - bacon, eggs, pancakes, and glasses of chocolate milk. 

“So, are you two excited for All Might day?” Mom questioned, sitting down at the table with the last of the pancakes, serving Izuku and Kacchan. Izuku immediately stuffed one of the fluffy golden cakes into his mouth, loving the sweet and rich softness.

“Yeah!” Kacchan cheered, monching on a hot sauce laden spoonful of scrambled eggs, before coughing slightly, it might’ve been too hot, but given he added more hot sauce, maybe not hot enough for him. “I can’t wait to go to the special movie today!”

“Me too!” Izuku said through a mouthful of maple syrup and pancake.

“Now boys, don’t talk with your mouths full of food,” Mom said with a polite smile.

Izuku finished chewing before speaking again, that was good manners after all. Swallowing his pancakes, “I can’t wait to watch All the Mightiest Crime! I heard, for the All Might day special, they added a scene, where All Might, says a joke, and beats up bad guys with his super duper cool quirk!” Izuku said with excitement at the rumor of the scene.

“Really?” Kacchan questioned, slamming his hands on the table knocking food all over, standing up.

“Yeah!” Izuku responded, equally excited at the special release of the movie

“Boys!” Mom shouted, catching the glasses of milk which almost spilled in all the commotion, “I know you’re excited, but spilling milk isn’t what All Might would do, is it?”

“No,” the boys said, shame and acknowledgement on their faces.

* * *

Inko finished putting away the dishes from the boy’s breakfast, as much as she loved her son and Katsuki, the day’s events were daunting. It was All Might day, technically, it was just hero appreciation day, but as the top hero, All Might stole the spotlight, and after being on top for the last 20 years, most people had just accepted today as a day to celebrate the number 1 hero. She’d tried to have then be with Mitsuki for the day, but she and Masaru were busy, thus, she would take the kids for the day they both loved, walking through the kitchen, she could overhear the pair yelling as they put on their clothes, making sure to grab the extra strength migraine medication, placing it in her purse.

Stretching herself out just a bit, Inko squeezed her lower back as she turned herself, stretching out on the counter just a bit, it was good practice to stretch out in order to prevent back pains as she got older - or so her mother said. Humming a little tune, Inko walked through the kitchen double checking that the dishes were in their places, finding she’d missed Katsuki’s glass of milk - he wasn’t the biggest fan of milk for whatever reason.

Walking down the hall, Inko popped back into her room to freshen up and pick up her cell phone from the charger, checking her messages and finding none. A pout formed on Inko’s face as she pulled up the tickets to the show that Izuku and Katsuki had begged her to buy tickets for, some All Might movie he’d probably watched around a hundred times in the last week alone. She could already recite most of the campy, childish lines in the movie, but as long as it made her little Izuku happy, she would bear with the grating dialogue and silly characters.

It was just past new years, and the day would be brisk, she confirmed after checking the weather on her phone, she’d started to be a bit more affected by the cold, and was a bit envious of the boy’s complete immunity to the chill in the air. Reaching into the closet, she withdrew a scarf and sweater, putting them on over her outfit, making her feel warm and cozy - she was sure that Izuku would love a hug, he always did when she wore her soft sweater.

Walking out of her bedroom, she crossed the hall, knocking on Izuku’s door before opening to a scene of the two boys bouncing in front of the computer, watching the same video they always did of All Might saving people with a smile on his face. “Oh boys, have you even brushed your teeth yet?” Inko questioned, peeking across the hall and seeing their toothbrushes in much the same location as they had been last night when she sent them to bed.

“Yes?” Izuku tried, lying, barely looking away from his computer screen - her little hero would do anything to keep watching his videos. Inko looked at him, staring just a bit to give him a chance to change his answer, “no” he said with an ounce of shame, getting up from his chair, “Kacchan didn’t either!”

“Snitch!” Katsuki barked.

“All right boys, why don’t you brush teeth, then we can go, okay?”

“Okay!” the pair chirped, running past her into the bathroom. Inko let out a sigh of relief as she walked back through the kitchen then to the door, pulling on her walking shoes - it was going to be a long day, all the better to wear comfortable shoes.

The heavy footsteps of the two boys running down the hall filled her hair, turning around just in time to avoid being caught up in another of their little races. She smiled, happy that her son and his friend were so close, it had been heartbreaking for her when she found out he wouldn’t get a quirk at the doctors office, but since he’d kept being friends with Katsuki, she’d found a modicum of hope for her son and his dreams of being a hero. Sure, the conventional wisdom was you needed a quirk to be a hero, but it wasn’t a rule. Her Izuku had the heart for it, that was absolutely certain.

“Are you two ready to go?” Inko questioned rhetorically to the pair who were visibly bouncing with excitement to get to the movie theater to watch the movie. A pair of bobble headed nods answered her, deciding to play with their excitement, putting on her best impression of All Might, “here we go!” Inko smiled a bit as the boys both cringed at her impression, just because she was a mother didn’t mean she couldn’t have fun sometimes.

She followed after the two boys as they rambunctiously bounced down the stairs, waiting for her at the bottom, she couldn’t compete with their boundless energy when it came to all things hero. The trio walked towards the train station to head into the city where they would watch the All Might movie special release thing - it wasn’t really for her, though she would admit that her son’s enthusiasm was infectious.

The train ride was quant, as to be expected, standing while the boys chatted eagerly regarding the movie, sparking up a conversation with a few other people who were also headed to the theater to watch that same movie. They were being awfully talkative, and while she would’ve had a problem with them talking to strangers, she was right there in case she needed to protect them from a creep - she could also spy a police officer at the other end of the train car just in case.

Walking from the station, the trio made their way to the movie theater with ease, joining a small group of other parents and children (and a few strange teenagers) all going to watch the movie. She chatted amicably with the other parents, a few of whom were honestly excited to watch the movie as if they had not seen it to the point of memorization.

The whole movie was a mind numbing, painful experience in the theater, Inko decided walking out of the building an hour and a half later, her head pinging with a painful migraine, necessitating the use of the migraine medication she’d stashed in her purse as the group walked briskly to the park, the boy’s filled with energy which she would rather not deal with at a restaurant. It was a standard looking park, a few food stalls around the perimeter from which snack food could be purchased, leaving the boys to play, Inko walked up to one, looking over her shoulder to keep an eye on the boys as she purchased an apple.

Settling into a seat, Inko ate the refreshingly crunchy apple happily. A yelp from her son broke her concentration from the apple as she scanned the whole of the playground in an instant looking for Izuku. Getting up from the bench and rushing over to him where he’d fallen from the jungle gym. “Are you okay sweetie?” Inko asked, pressing a boo-boo kiss to her son’s red elbow - boo-boo kisses make it all better after all.

“Yup!” Izuku chirped, the redness of his knees and elbows which must’ve hurt at least a little bit completely removed from his mind in an instant. With a sigh, Inko pushed off her knees walking back to the bench where she’d left her purse in all the rush.

_ A shivering presence blows on the air _

A gust of wind blew through the playground, knocking over her purse from where it sat upon the bench, spilling it’s contents upon the ground just as Inko arrived to gather up her things. A shiver ran through her body in response to the cold wind which pierced through her sweater and scarf.

_ Those who seek have found _

Inko finished collecting her things, sitting back down on the bench, settling into the domestic scene of her Izuku and Katsuki playing heroes and villains with the kids on the playground.

_ Those who seek will return _

Inko sneezed, sniffling slightly, it was well past time for the cold season, but thankfully, she always carried tissues with her incase Izuku caught the sniffles. Pulling out the package, Inko brought the tissue to her nose and blew into it, finding no mucus - maybe it was allergies? Either way, she decided to pull out her mask, if she was coming down with something, it would be inappropriate to be out without wearing her mask.

_ It is necessary for the world _

A yell sounded through the playground, it didn’t sound like her Izuku, so she didn’t look right away.

_ It is necessary, apologies _

More screams resounded as Inko looked at the playground, her mouth going dry as a massive beastial hand burst forth from the ground right by where Izuku and Katsuki were playing, both of them screaming in chorus with the countless other children all blown backwards by the force of the hand reaching out through the ground. Her mind stilled a moment as her body moved without thinking, jumping from her seat with a singular mind to save her son and Katsuki.

_ Apologies _

Hundreds of black silhouettes burst from around the hand which seemed to grow and emanate some dark aura around itself as it reached forward and grabbed Izuku like he was a doll, his screams of pain filling Inko’s ears. Pushing past the children and black sprites, Inko grabbed hold of Katsuki as he fell backwards, eyes wide with fear yet empty of consciousness.

“IZUKU!” A sound finally escaped from her mouth as the terror of her situation set in, she was grasping her unconscious god-child, watching as a villain abducted her son. “LET HIM GO!” Inko begged as arms wrapped around her, pulling her and her son apart. Struggling against the unknown assailant, Inko reached out to her son with her quirk, begging to be strong enough to bring her little hero back to her. Desperate tears and screams erupted from her as the corners of her vision filled with more of the black silhouettes.

_ Apologies, it is necessary _

“LET ME GO! MY SON!” Inko screamed to anyone around her as she reached out for her Izuku whose wide eyed, screaming form could still be seen clenched by the massive, hairy, disgusting, mutated, grotesque, six-fingered arm which reached up into the sky with Izuku like some twisted offering. Voices around her said words which she could not hear, too distraught over her son being snatched away by a monstrous villain. “PLEASE!” Inko begged as the arm plunged deep into the ground, stealing Izuku away beneath the twisted whirls of shadows which seemed to flow out as a cascading whirlpool of black sprites ushered forth filling the area with living shadows.

A horrid sound of scrapping metal filled Inko’s ears as she stared at the spot of where her son had just disappeared to, screams of all kinds sang out in chorus as the twisted machinations of the playground became vaguely humanoid monstrosities emanating the same black aura which that villainous hand emitted. Her breath fell short as the arms around her threw her backwards, the hero stepping between her and the playground which had become some sort of unearthly sentient binding of growing gore and grinding metal, sucking up the wood chips from the playground becoming flesh over the bone of the metal.

Inko screamed in horror once more as the monstrosity, forming a mouth, unleashed an inhuman screech like nails on a chalkboard, piercing through all of the other noises; with a gangly, unnaturally long limb, the creature swept across the field knocking the hero who’d stood between her and the monster off his feet, throwing him beyond her view as a new set of arms took hold of her, pulling her yet further. “IZUKU!” Inko screamed once more, clutching onto Katsuki as the only thing she could cling to in her moment of fear.

_ It is vital those who seek are freed _

Inko did not manage to hold onto her conscious for much longer as the mutated metal and wooden beast which bled inky black tar, cascading from the misshapen form down onto the ground, a putrid smell of rot, decay and death filling her nose, sending her so far into shock, even if she was aware, she could no longer move.

* * *

“Breaking news, an unknown villain has launched a terrorist attack on a small park in downtown Musutafu, reports are unclear, but it is suspected that several dozen civilians, including children were caught up in the attack.”

“More details have just come in on the downtown villain attack as the battle reaches its third hour as heroes struggle to battle the unknown and strange villains. Both All Might and Endeavor have been reported to be on their way to help resolve the situation.”

“As the battle in downtown Musutafu reaches its twelfth hour, reporters on the ground have gotten us images of the villains in their battle against All Might.” The news broadcast droned on, showing a monstrous metal and wooden humanoid which was covered in smoldering flames which burned in etched markings across the body, centering on a spiral around the right side of the creature’s chest. “Currently, the villains are continuing to battle the heroes. At the time of this report, an estimated 15 people are marked as either missing or dead in this villain attack.”

“Breaking news, after a day and a half, another monster has appeared in the Downtown Musutafu villain attack of the same design.”

“Another villain has appeared of the same design.”

“This brings the total of villains who have appeared in the villain attack up to 4 as we enter the third day of this prolonged villain attack which is sure to go down as one of the most heinous events in the history of Musutafu. The list of missing persons has grown to 348 and the 2 kilometer cordon has been extended an additional kilometer. Speak with local police for evacuation instructions should you be within the area.”

“There is talk of the Diet authorizing use of military force.”

“The Downtown villain attack has come to an end, with three of the villains having been defeated and brought down by the use of military forces after the successful capture of one of the villains by All Might.”

“Over 8 billion dollars in property damage… nearly 30 buildings reduced to rubble… the official missing persons count has risen to 678, many of which are believed to be dead, an official statement on the use of military force... “

“Search and rescue efforts are still ongoing as we enter the second day after the end of the Battle of Musutafu, with over 100 persons rescued from the nearly 30 square kilometer search area.”

“Recovery efforts are now underway, with the nearly 200 persons still missing now presumed dead, the Diet has released a statement…”

Inko sobbed away in the hospital as the world gave up on her Izuku. Those villains had taken him nearly 6 days ago, she knew a few basic things about survival from her schooling - no one could survive longer than three of four days without water, and though it had rained endlessly as the world wept, her hope for her son dwindled until it began to disappear completely.

* * *

Drawing out of the twirling black mess, a pair of figures emerged from the ground, both clad in multiple layers of robes, rags and decorative cloths with unearthly symbols scrawled across them like the machinations of a mad man. The shorter of the pair, their body completely obscured due to their ill fitted clothing which hung off their body like a shawl, cloak, and gown all wrapped into one, a pair of dirty leather boots wrapped in once white cloth hung from their body like the torn off bandages of a mummy, a round, jingling shield strapped to their left arm which held a staff with a strange planetary model device affixed to one end being the most notable feature of this person. A pointed weapon was clutched in their right hand as they gazed across the dark surroundings of the newly rebuilt downtown Musutafu. Prodding the ground, their attention turned to the taller figure, who donned a deep green cloak which covered the whole of their body, though a perceptive eye could spy through the opening at the front to see the white and tans of the leather shirt concealed beneath the red-tied cloak.

[Do you know where we are?] The taller figure questioned.

[I can only guess, it’s all still hazy] The shorter figure responded, pointing their weapon at the skyline, [none of this is familiar]

[Then, is this the wrong place?] The taller figure questioned.

[It has to be the right place, he wouldn’t lie to me.] The shorter figure asserted, taking a step, the metal sole of their boot clicking against the hard, polished stone surface, looking around, they found an out of place wall. Stepping up to the construct, the shorter of the pair brushed their fingers over the symbols etched in the slab of cold, polished stonework. A smile crept across the face of the figure, [I am sure,] the figure started as a long faded memory returned to the forefront of their mind, [this is Japan, this is  _ home _ .]


	2. Chapter 2

The shorter figure’s hand brushed over the symbols, searching for one which they could identify, they could hardly know the exact meaning of such things, such characters were foreign even as they’d confirmed this place as part of their homeland. Their symbolism was clear enough to see, it was a monument of some sort, possibly commemorating some sort of tragedy, though the exact nature of such a thing doubtlessly eluded their thoughts. [I know not what this monument stands for, though we should move along, it is pointless to stay in one place.]

[Of that, you know i agree,] the taller figure agreed, a feather at their side drawn back providing a modicum of light over the monument, revealing the foreign symbols.

Turning about, the shorter figure’s cloth bindings and clothes blew on the wind as the chimes affixed to their arm jingled gingerly in the refreshing night air. Their breath shone on the cold wind as a brisk breeze flowed through the monument grounds as the pair departed, walking along the well made, and nearly perfectly flattened earthen stonework. The comforting of the dark was shortly thereafter pierced by towering poles which began to unleash their artificial light, pressing against the dark while veiling the world in a pale imitation of torchlight.

Far above, a third figure paid close attention, though their presence was only noted by the taller of the pair, who kept the being in the corner of their eye as long as possible, mentally tracking the foe. Pulling back the hood of their emerald cloak, auburn locks fell around the now decidedly female figure who kept pace with the shorter figure. Though the architecture was forgien and strange, it did not give them a moment of even false security, they both, the taller and shorter figures, understood intimately the prospect of attacks from all angles. Catching sight of the figure, the shorter questions the taller, [what catches your eye?]

Straightening out their gazes, now adjusted to the lighting, they both stole a glance at the creature stalking them from the enshadowed rooftops, leaping between them. [An entity stalks us, from the rooftops] the taller reports, [I cannot tell perfectly with the light.]

Keeping their gazes affixed on their surroundings, the shorter lessens their pace alongside the taller, both of whom’s right hands move for respective tools, while the shorter’s grip upon their planetary modeled scepter tightens. [For how long do you suspect?] The shorter questions as a gust of cold wind flares out the pair’s respective garbs, the multitude of lighter, wispier layers of the shorter’s grab whipping around in the wind while the heavier duty emerald cloak of the taller flows ever so slightly revealing portions of laced, brown leather knee-high boots, heavy looking gloves of a similar design and a split gown of an elaborate yet restrained design which danced between ornate and plain.

Grasping at the feather attached to a cord wound about her corset, the taller pauses for a moment, [not overlong, and though I cannot see them perfectly, they are not large enough to be an abomination and yet larger than wildlife of most sorts.] 

[Do you suppose a humanoid?]

[It is possible.]

Stopping dead in their tracks, not the type to play around when a stalker from the shadows would be upon them, the shorter raises their left arm, the staff of planetary design overshadowed by the now clear to see hexagonal shield inside the wire frame of which countless chimes hung. The planetary model staff’s mechanisms began to whirl as the shorter figure intoned a few lines of a language unknown to the world, finally shaking his arm as a pulse emits from the shield and staff, the light around their arm being brought in for a moment before being blown out around them in a weightless wind of light. Bringing the staff back down to the earth, a cloth from afar shoots forward, wrapping about the staff’s body, tying the assailant from the shadows and the shorter together at long ends. Cold, dull green eyes, track the band of grey cloth along the trail, leading to the figure in the shadows, poised to strike from the rooftops in ambush. Such tactics were one which the shorter was intimately familiar with, both on the receiving end, and the one launching such attacks. Though the night was heavy, and the magics which still the figure in the distance, they can easily tell them apart from the surroundings by the piercing, glowing red eyes. [An elite, be on guard] the shorter advises of the emerald clad figure.

[How unfortunate that our first encounter in your home be with an elite] the taller lamented, drawing back her feather, pressing it to her lips. A second pulse of some unknown light emits from the feather as the emerald clad figure lowers the item, allowing it to dangle at her side.

The assailant barks an order in a foreign tongue, which the taller considered to be as nonsensical as the words intoned by the shorter to invoke their magics. Any slack in the binding is gone as the assailant pulls upon the cloth, pulling the shorter towards the shadows fruitlessly, the shorter being aided by an unknown force. The enshadowed figure’s orders cease filling the air, as though some shock from his movement failing had stilled him for a moment. Said moment was fleeting however as the figure approached quickly, leaping down to street level, his figure now illuminated by the artificial lights.

[A vagrant?] the shorter questioned, [I thought they could not become elite.]

[This is another world, perhaps he possesses such strength?] the taller figure questioned in response, both sets of eyes fixated on the assailant.

The shorter pulls upon the binding with his left arm, pulling the assailant from his feet, stumbling towards them slightly, drawing out their rapier, piercing two holes in the flat of the binding cloth before a swipe across the punctured section broke the now decidedly metal creation. They disliked being bound, and now freed, they rang out with their chimes and staff, reciting another set of verses from beyond this world, gazing upon the vagrant with a scarf of metal, one end melted and dripping like lava. The vagrant wore a plain black outfit, their banded metal scarf wrapped around their neck in a large wound pile, a pair of bright yellow slitted goggles resting upon his eyes which did scant little to hide his glowing red eyes.

The vagrant, a male by the shorter’s estimate, staggered forward as the magics the shorter had first invoked began to function fully upon his body, wisps of darkness swirling around his body and slowing his movements as the weight of night pressed upon him. An unexpected result of the sudden weight upon his body was a failed staggering step, landing the vagrant upon his face like a bumbling drunken fool. The fool still moved forwards ever so slightly, unable to relent on his odd fixation of glaring those red eyes on the pair.

[For what purpose didst you assault us?] the shorter queried, to which dissatisfaction was wrought as the crawling vagrant only continued to speak the nattive language of the land, Japanese. Time progresses as the pair await an answer from the wriggling worm, who seems completely intent on pursuing a conversation entirely in the language neither of them know.

Annoyance builds between the two parties as the vagrant speaks further in Japanese, only to be met by questions of himself in the language the two speak, a lack of violence betwixt the two did not quell the obvious animosity which grew between the pair as the conversation continued to flounder. Finally, the vagrant attempts an alternative response to the failing communication, moving his hand to his ear for reasons beyond that of the shorter and taller figures. After a short bout of nonsense from the shaggy person whose eyes had ceased glowing red, the individual released a sigh, heavy with anger and frustration which was easily reflected in the pair who’d been unable to understand the diatribe the vagrant had been spouting. A heavy inhale sounded from the prone figure as he spoke in the language which the pair could understand, though his pronunciation and grammar was deplorable, [whU-o A-re Yu-ou?]

The shorter considered for a moment what specifically the man was asking, even saying aloud, [who am I?] It was a faulty attempt to speak the common language, though it atleast proved he was capable of reason, not lost as of yet - a boon for them. The figure nodded, a common gesticulation even to the denizens of the dark. The shorter figure, with curls of green just showing from beneath their hood replied to his question amicably, [Izuku Midoriya.]

The man visibly stilled as some spark of recognition shone in his eyes, “Izuku Midoriya?” he asked in confirmation mixed with more of the nonsensical Japanese which he spoke constantly. Pressing his hand to his ear, he spoke a few more lines of words before withdrawing a device from his pocket, opening the construct.

A new voice came from the device, which set both figures on edge, this was uncharted territory for them, such sorceries were unheard of in the world they knew. The vagrant responded, in the same Japanese language which neither of the pair could properly understand. [Hello? Can you hear me?] the voice questioned in the same common language of the pair.

[Who speaks on behalf of this vagrant?] Izuku questioned of the small device walking towards it and reaching out towards it as if on instinct, only for the device to be pulled back by the man on the ground.

[My name is Snipe: the gun toting hero. You mind telling me your names?] the device answered and questioned in turn.

[Izuku Midoriya] Izuku responded honestly, willingly offering information already given.

[Shanalotte] the emerald clad woman answered amicably, a natural soothing tone of hers removing some aspects of tension still present between the two parties.

[Alright, would you mind holding on for a second? I’ll be over there in a minute, then we can talk in person - would that be better for you two?] the hero on the other side of the device spoke, now identified as Snipe: the gun toting hero.

[That is acceptable] Izuku answered first, ready to wait for longer than a minute, knowing full well that the expression was akin to an idiom or other slang, one of the few things he knew from the other world which seemed to have transferred easily. It took not but a minute and a half for sounds which jut out against the natural ambiance of the street to fill the ears of Izuku and Shanalotte, the latter hearing them a moment earlier.

[Another approach, I presume them to be this Snipe person who spoke from that device.] Shanalotte commented, to which Izuku nodded, gazing out into the night, eyes searching for the supposed hero whom spoke with them through the vagrant’s device. Sliding down a pipe, the presumed hero in question descended upon the trio of two standing persons who wore garb which stood out hardily in comparison to the one on the ground, though they themselves looked somewhat akin to this new addition. His attire was akin to a traveler, with a red cape buttoned around his neck, under which a buckled jerkin with sides of white framing a blackened undershirt, dirty yellowed baggy pants tucked into a pair of leather boots with riding spurs finished describing his outfit - without addressing his bizarre choice of headdress. It was a large hat, the sides of which were angled upwards into the shape of a “u” with a large metal buckle across the crest denoted with an “s” the mask of the person was the most strange to Izuku and Shanalotte, resembling an insect with a pronounced mandible, snout looking feature behind which sat a pair of large, shiny, ovals which the pair supposed where the eyes of this strange creature which called itself “Snipe: the gun toting hero.”

As the new addition makes his approach, he breaks off eye contact instead moving to check on the vagrant, converting in Japanese as wisps of darkness spread around his body as he comes under the effects of the magic which Izuku had cast during the initial contact with the vagrant. Conversing with the man for a scant few moments, Izuku decided that if the man would lack such basic manners, then he would not hesitate. [State your name and the reason for your approach, insectoid] he directed at the strange bug man, Snipe. The man reached quickly to withdraw something from a pouch which laid against his thigh, though was blocked by the gray haze forming around his hand at the action. He allows himself two more attempts before saying something to the vagrant before allowing rancorous laughter to resound from his strange face.

[Izuku, I do not care for insects, they are some of the most wicked and malicious] Shanalotte advised, voice just barely above a whisper.

[I would not trust him, though as long as he cannot harm us, I will not harm him - this world supposedly has rules, rules the vagrant failed to uphold.] Izuku responded to her plea of temperance in the face of this new person.

[Pfft hahaha! E-Eraser y-y-bahaha! You ain’t gotta non violent bone in yer whole body!] The insect said in a mocking tone of the vagrant, though it was decidedly friendly enough to not further edge the pair who’d had a bad experience with insects before. [Yer ‘bout as mean as a bull in heat!] Snipe continued to deride the vagrant, now recognized by the name of E-Era’sir. The man switched back to Japanese for a moment, as if to reprimand the vagrant for some failing - possibly for assaulting them for no reason.

[These people are quite odd] Izuku observed idly to Shanalotte who was likely feeling much the same, [it is as though they are unaware of their surroundings and the danger they are in by ignoring us.]

[Perhaps they are too easily trusting?] Shanalotte questioned, [you said this world has rules, perhaps insulting others for failing is part of their rules?]

[I cannot say that isn’t the case] Izuku admitted, he had scarce few memories of Japan, the culture, there were only a few things he could remember, a few lessons instilled by his mother. [Excuse me, are your courtesies lacking?] Izuku asked of the strangely dressed Snipe, whose shoulders rose slightly, raising to his feet and offering a tip of the hat.

[Like i said on the phone, name’s Snipe: the gun toting hero, pleased to meet ya Izuku and Shanalotte.]

Returning the show of respect, Izuku bowed over, though kept his grip on his staff and weapon at the ready should this “hero” turn out to be just another ruffian vagrant. [Izuku Midoriya, pleased to meet you Snipe: the gun toting hero.]

[Shanalotte, I am also pleased to meet you Snipe: the gun toting hero.] Shanalotte said in following, curtseying a bit with her gown. [Also, what is a phone and gun?] Shanalotte asked, finishing her curtsey, allowing her curiosity of the world to shine through just a bit.

The insect faced hero looked slightly taken aback at the honest question, pulling free the device from the pouch on his hip which laid against his thigh, he demonstrated the odd mechanical device with a flip, [this, is a gun] he explained a bit stilted as though he was unused to questions on his unique equipments, [and, well, phones are what you talked to me on before I got here, don’t’cha know that?] Looking over at the vagrant who was currently struggling against his scarf, attempting to utilize it for some reason, perhaps in reaction to seeing that Snipe had been able to use what Izuku and Shanalotte had presumed to be a weapon.

Returning his rapier to it’s scabbard, Izuku replied on Shanalotte’s behalf as she digested the knowledge, [thank you for the explanation, just as well, it seems you’ve devised the reason the vagrant, E-Era’sir was it? Cannot move, bravo.] Izuku said with a sarcastic clap, leaning his staff against his body for a moment.

Snipe let out a click of his tongue, which seemed right for the insect faced man, [I got the jist of it from Eraser, and trying to quickdraw on ya] Snipe responded to the question, [thought it was a bit weird he couldn’t move.]

[Do tell why he cannot move then if you’ve happened upon the raison d’etre] Izuku said with a feral bit of excitement to be dealing with someone who could understand his magics, allowing the light to gleam off his elongated canines. A gust of wind blew between the pair, sending the countless clothes tied to Izuku’s body, etched and painted painstakingly with runes of otherworldly origin glinting through the copious amounts of filth the garb had accumulated since he first claimed the clothes.

[‘s hostility ain’t it? Ya see, Eraser is an underground ambush type, so when he sees a villain he pounces, making sure he gets the drop on his targets.]

[As suspected] Shanalotte commented on Snipe's explanation, [though he failed to conceal himself against us.]

[Right on Missie, I like to take my time, line up my shot before I fire, that grey haze is you or the girlie’s power, ain’t it Izuku?]

[I like this one,] Izuku found himself saying with childish glee, [he’s not a nitwit.]

[Indeed, he has sense and reason] Shanalotte confirmed, [unfortunate about the vagrant, E-Era’sir.]

[His name is Eraserhead, the Erasure hero, just like how I’m Snipe: the gun toting hero, though, most people don’t say the whole thing - just call me Snipe.] Snipe said with a pleasant tone.

[Hark, a  _ Hero _ !] Izuku proclaimed with upswept arms, the chimes affixed to his left arm jingling happily in the movement, [then truly, we have arrived at the correct place! Do you believe that this place exists now Shanalotte?]

With a sigh, Shanalotte shakes her head [I held no hesitation to this being the correct place, nor it existing. I was under the impression this was the wrong part of the right place. Still though, just because we are in the right place, does ner’ entail our being in the right place.]

[You two’re weird, what’s saw we take this down to the station, getting hit by a car’d be pretty bad, course, i’ll need ya to undo whatever’s going on with Eraser,] Snipe said in a still relaxed voice, which now that they’d heard it for a while, the colloquial drawl of the accent was indeed quite suited to the hero.

Looking to his redheaded companion, Izuku considers the offer for a moment, gazing at the man still struggling against the magics, his hostility still forcibly staying his hand and suppressing his body, a heavy exhalation allowed his shoulders to droop, [I’ve none issue with the request to move our conversation, though I take issue with the E-Era’sir fellow, I shall keep mine field about myself and mine companion. What say you, Hero Snipe?]

[Will he be able to move once you move away? ‘Cause if that’s the case, I ain’t gotta problem, just don’t want to leave him on the ground like yesterday’s trash is all] Snipe said with a shrug.

[He will move once we leave his vicinity, fret naught] Izuku placated, [in which direction is this “Station” of which you spoke a moment ago?] Snipe pointed towards a direction, giving a basic degree of instruction, which Shanalotte recited verbatim for Izuku who lacked many senses such as “North, South, East, West” and sometimes “left and right,” nodding at the instructions, the pair set off allowing the heroes to follow behind them such that they do not get caught in the field of magics which surround the pair.

[This is an odd place, so much perfect stonework and marvelously clear glass, the builders of these castles must be incredibly talented] Shanalotte commented on the buildings which eclipsed neigh on all the constructions of the world they’d traveled, [do you think the builder’s carved them from mountains like those of the sunken city, used beasts like in the frozen city, or magics to construct such things as with the smelter’s tower?]

[I’d suggest beasts, perhaps those “cars” which Snipe mentioned, such ferocious beasts must surely be strong enough to bring about such massive amounts of stonework] Izuku posited on the construction of the towering buildings. [Though, all of these lights would surely darken the sky with ash were they torches, their talents with light must eclipse that of the sunken city.]

[Perhaps that is so, perhaps they possess knowledge of the ancient dragons, whose lights still burn eternally in the Aerie] Shanalotte offered as an explanation to the ever present light which glowed from within the buildings as they walked peacefully towards the “station.” Two wrong turns later, the pair arrived in front of a large brick built building with lettering on the front facade describing it as a “police station” in the common tongue, though both were a bit confused as to how to enter the building which seemed to lack doors; thus they awaited the arrival of Snipe and E-Era’sir.

[So what is the hold up?] Snipe questioned them as they wondered how to enter the building save breaking down the front glass facade which stood as a bulwark against their ingress.

[There is no door.] Shanalotte answered as Izuku reached into his pack for a throwing knife, though he could smash the glass with his rapier’s pommel.

Snipe’s response was to walk forward allowing for the glass wall to open before him, [come on, let’s get ya settled so we can get some info on ya] the hero said with a tired sigh which confused the pair who’d never seen doors operate as such without the feeding of souls. Stepping through the doors, they sealed behind him, causing the pair a shock as they approached cautiously, expecting some foul trap, a gate to fall down behind them imprisoning them within the building of brick and glass. Much to their surprise, the glass walls slid to the side silently, no scrapping of stone or metal, nothing which could’ve clued them to the sorceries on which the door opened.

[Incredible] Shanalotte marvelled, inspecting the glass construction closely as Izuku stepped through covering for his ally as she sought the secrets of the mechanism which moved the glass from their path, allowing passage into the building. [Izuku, this is made of something I’ve ner’ seen before in all of my experience, it is truly otherworldly!]

The vagrant pushed passed them, likely nursing a bruised pride before they caught up with Snipe at a large rotunda desk, the woman behind which he was speaking to in Japanese. [Alright, before we can get to talking, we’re gonna need that sword of yours Izuku.] Snipe requisitioned the shorter, who’d pulled back his hood to reveal a slightly scarred pale face under a mess of green curls with the inklings of facial hair growing from his chin, indicating his age to be in the mid teens to early twenties.

[I take issue being removed from my rapier, but I will comply provided you do not remove my chimes, staff, or take Shanalotte from me] Izuku requested in response.

[No one’s gonna take yer girlfriend from you, I’m the only person here who can speak english well enough anyways] Snipe said with a shrug, which contented Izuku enough to offer his rapier to the taller hero, who took the blade with care, transferring the weapon to an oddly dressed person who approached from behind. A frown spread across Izuku’s face as he saw the weapon move outside his reach, it would be the first time in a long time where he’d been without a physical weapon. Following Snipe’s lead, the trio walked back into a room labeled 117, which opened to reveal a milk white room containing a table of similar coloration and a set of chairs. [I’ll be right back, would ya like some coffee? Hot chocolate?]

[I would try this coffee] Shanalotte broached.

[I’d prefer a hot chocolate] Izuku replied, a memory as faint as the stars above the illuminated city coming to his mind regarding a love of “hot chocolate.” It could’ve been just chocolate milk, his memories from the before time, in the long ago were always hazy and difficult to recall.

Snipe left the room, leaving the pair alone in the room, who settled into the chairs which were padded with some sort of leather wrapped over a metal body which amazed both who’d never seen such fine craftsmanship in something as mundane as a common chair. [What do you suppose coffee is Izuku? Just as well, might i taste your hot chocolate when Snipe returns?]

[I see no issue with such a thing. Hot chocolate is, I believe, a drink - perhaps coffee is much the same?] Izuku wondered aloud as he pulled out a flask of golden sunlight and two clumps of purple moss with snowflakes buds of flowers, [should he attempt to poison us, I am readied] he asserted, passing Shanalotte one of the moss clumps about the size of a thumb, placing the flask of liquid sunlight back into his pouch.

[I do not doubt your choice to ready an antipoison, though I also do not doubt the character of Snipe] Shanalotte observed, [he lacks the same secrecy and trickster tones.]

[You have not met as many tricksters as I] Izuku pointed out, [even then, they did not actively trick you.]

[You are not wrong, though I was also a trickster for a period] Shanalotte regarded her past manipulating many before Izuku to achieve the goals of her father.

[Fair enough, though, should some poison be attempted, you’d best consume that moss, I know poison can slay even your ancient ancestors] Izuku warned having witnessed first hand the felling of the ancients at the hands of another ancient who wrought poison and a miasma of disease.

[Of course, I would ner’ throw away a mote of safety] Shanalotte replied just before the door opened with the insect faced hero returning holding a strange, malformed platter with four cups of a damaged looking white creation, steam rising from all but one. Setting down the tray, the hero distributed the cups between them.

[For myself and Shanalotte, coffee and some cream and sugar] the hero explained pointing to the murky black liquid next to a cup of what indeed appeared to be milk or cream as well as some perfectly white packages of paper. [For Izuku, a cup of hot chocolate] the hero said in placing a cup in front of Izuku and finally sitting down. The steaming liquid which was supposedly hot chocolate was a deep brown, the same color as lightly burned wood, though it smelled sweet. [Ah, missie, you’ll probably want to add some milk and sugar; you said you’ve never had coffee before right?]

[I’ve ner’ had coffee indeed, so I should add milk and sugar then? How much?] Shanalotte questioned innocently, her genuine curiosity being infectious.

[Ah, well, how sweet do you like things?] Snipe questioned as Izuku took a sip of the hot chocolate as a wave of flavor poured over him, forcing him to set down the cup quickly for fear of spilling the beverage which overwhelmed his senses with the crushing sweetness. Putting his hand over his mouth, he was taken aback at how positively luxurious and sweet the flavor of the chocolate drink was, eliciting tears at the beverage which struck at his core so immensely he’d lost the ability to speak. [Uh, are you okay there Izuku?] Snipe questioned to which Izuku could only stand to nod as tears dribbled down his face as he continued to come to terms with the lusciously sweet beverage.

[Is it good?] Shanalotte questioned bringing her own cup to her lips and taking a sip before dropping the beverage and leaping backwards, [POISON!] she shrieked, cramming the moss into her mouth and chewing it a moment before swallowing as the other two in the room stared at the spilled coffee. [Is your drink poisoned as well?] she asked quickly of Izuku who shook his head, offering the beverage to her.

[It is too sweet for me, i cannot drink it, have only a sip, lest you suffer the consequences of oversweeted drinks] Izuku responded to her, shaking his head, [i cannot drink it any longer.]

[Excuse me, but did you just accuse me of poisoning you?] Snipe asked, aghast at the display of the coffee being thrown away so suddenly, [it’s just coffee!]

[It is bitter! Immensely so! And it burned to consume as though made of flames which can harm me like lightning! It is poison!] Shanalotte asserted, looking at the hot chocolate with uncertainty, [i’ll not drink the hot chocolate, it is of the same sort as coffee, it could easily be poison just as well - i implore you to avoid the beverage] Shanalotte continued. Snipe sighed as he brought forth paper clothes to wipe up the split brownish black liquid.

[So, water then?]

[What of ale? So as we can be sure it is safe to drink?] Izuku questioned, [water is such a dangerous thing to trust.]

[Where the hell are you two from where water isn’t safe?] Snipe sighed dramatically, [i’ll be right back with some water, which i assure you, will be safe to drink, okay?]

[Very well] Izuku said without inflection as Snipe left the room. {Shanalotte, would you like to drink some estus?]

[Please, that coffee injured my very essence, i can feel it] Shanalotte said with a bit of concern on her voice, accepting the flask of liquid sunlight with glee, sipping from the warm fluid which reinforced the body of the user while tasting of sour fruits and sweet honeys. [Ah, blessed is estus upon this body] she said with a sigh, returning the flask to Izuku who stashed it away before Snipe could return.

[How will we acquire more once this flask empties? Do you still possess the power over estus?] Izuku questioned of Shanalotte.

[I know not] Shanalotte replied, [perhaps, one day, we’ll be made to return to the far fire to replenish the estus, but until such time, I do not know.]

[I suppose it’s not the worst possibility we could be forced to face] Izuku pondered, [we could be forced to find another keeper in these lands who has not forsaken her duties] after a moment Izuku added [which shouldn’t be possible.]

[All right you two, here’s some water, I’ll drink some first so you don’t have to worry about it being poisoned, then we need to get down to business, hope yall don’t mind if i take off my mask] Snipe declared setting down a stack of red cups and a pitcher of crystalline clear water. Shanalotte immediately began to marvel at the flawless quality of the water while Izuku was more focused upon the latter half of the hero’s statement.

[That’s a mask? I was under the impression it was your face] Izuku said with a confused tone as Shanalotte watched Snipe pour himself a cup of water.

[Now that’s just rude, i didn’t assume yer face was always covered by that hood of yours] the freshly unmasked Snipe drawled. He was a fit looking man with deeply tanned skin, extremely short black hair and a short beard splotched with points of grey which complimented his similarly grey eyes. Knocking back the cup of water, he replaced the cup on the table. [Right, the water is safe to drink, not poisoned, no ale, no beer, just water.] Snipe summarized as Shanalotte began to pour a cup for herself, passing it to Izuku.

[You drink first] she requested of the green-haired boy, who shrugged, taking a sip of the water before passing it back to her.

[Clean] Izuku asserted to his companion who drank of the water cautiously while Snipe brought out a strange rectangular device, fiddling with it until a red light illuminated upon the face of the construct.

[Right,] Snipe said before clearing his throat, he began to speak quickly in Japanese before finally reaching the end of some spiel at which point he took another sip of water and cleared his throat again. [As i said to you on the street, I am Snipe, the gun toting hero, but my real name is Brent J. Hickok. That said, let’s move onto you two, for the record, would ya mind stating your full name, place of residence, age and quirk?] Snip requested fighting off a yawn.

Shanalotte looked to Izuku as if asking him to speak first since she knew not what Snipe was talking about necessarily as well as being unsure what to say. [Izuku Midoriya, ah, I think I’m from Mustafar?]

[Musutafu?] Snipe offered as a correction.

[That sounds more right] Izuku agreed, [mine age was 6 before I lost count, though if I were to gauge a guess, perhaps several hundred years? Or mayhaps my teens, I know not. I do remember I am quirkless, or I suppose I am, the meaning of ‘quirk’ confounds me for I lack any such quirks] Izuku finished summarily. Brent blinked twice at the rambling and practically incoherent answer, shaking his head and turning his attention to Shanalotte.

[My name is Shanalotte, I am-]

[Last name?] Brent interjected, [the file needs a last name.]

[Izuku, may I have your last name?] Shanalotte questioned.

[I see no problem with that] Izuku responded nonchalantly, taking another sip of water.

[Did you just casually propose?] Brent asked a bit flabbergasted by the boldness of these two he suspected to be teenagers.

[Did I propose what?] Shanalotte questioned, [I fail to see what I proposed apart from taking up Izuku’s last name.]

[Ah, uh, right, sorry missie, go ahead] Brent sighed, now a bit more calmed by the notion that Shanalotte had not just proposed to Izuku in the middle of a police interview.

[Very well, my name is Shanalotte Midoriya, my residence by which I assume you mean home - I lack such a place of origin, as for my age, I have experienced at least 300 cycles of the dying of the flame before the linking completed after which I was given free reign, as such i was born on this past morning] Shanalotte explain, further confusing Brent who was unsure if that meant she was 300 days old or a day old, [I’ve no quirks save for perhaps my scales, though those are a factor of my birth and not a quirk I would suppose, what do you think Izuku?]

[I wouldn’t call your being a quirk, it is simply part of who you are, created by Aldia to guide others] Izuku agreed, [then, quirkless as well.]

[N-no, scales sounds like a mutation quirk,] Brent offered, [what sort of abilities does your quirk, or, scales give you?]

[I know not, I’ve yet to do battle, Izuku, you’ve killed my kind before - what sort of strengths might my scales give me?] Shanalotte questioned.

[Hmm, fire, lightning, poison, ice, or dark breath, if you’ve the same scales as the ancients, or if they develop, immortality, strength, healing, you already have improved senses from your heritage do you not?] Izuku postulated, [though, as a half-breed, who is to know the exact nature - do you have claws?]

[I do] Shanalotte confirmed, pulling off one of her heavy leather gloves to reveal lengthened sharp pointed fingernails, [though I’ve ner’ used them.]

[Sounds like a pretty strong dragon quirk, i guess] Brent said with a sigh, [and Izuku, you definitely got a quirk, how else did ya cut through Eraser’s binding cloth and shut him down?]

Izuku blinked twice, [I cut E-Era’sir’s cloth with mine rapier, though it was surprising to find it made of metal. As for the restraining of the vagrant, I used Promised Walk of Peace, a miracle granted to me by chance.]

[All right, so the rapier was support equipment and your quirk is “Promised Walk of Peace” then?]

[No, it is merely a miracle] Izuku asserted.

[Let’s just call it your quirk for now. Okay, next question, why were you wondering around at night?]

[We’d just arrived, and though I was certain we were in Japan, none of the surroundings were familiar, thus we traveled in search of a point where we might find some trace of memory when we were accosted by E-Era’sir] Izuku answered.

[And that is all?]

[That is all which transpired which led to our wandering, yes] Shanalotte confirmed, [had Izuku known where we arrived, we would have travelled to his abode of the past. That is all] Shanalotte finished with a degree of finality which Brent could only raise additional questions.

[And you were carrying around a dangerous weapon which would be outlawed for what reason?] Brent questioned.

[Protection, is that not clear?] Izuku questioned [the worthiness of holding it was proven when we were accosted by the vagrant E-Era’sir was it not?]

[His name is Eraser, you know, like on pencils? Anyways you were still breaking the laws regarding possession of a deadly weapon and public quirk usage.]

[I know not of what laws you speak] Shanalotte interjected, [though I know we were ner’ in the wrong' for guarding ourselves in this foreign land.]

[Where exactly are you from where public quirk use and using deadly weapons are just, a normal thing for people to be doing?] Brent questioned with a bit of skepticism.

[Drangleic, betwixt the northern mountains of Farram and endless sea, west of Mirrah, and east of Tseldora, though not so far east as being in Jugo, though also above the sanctum city and below the Iron keep which rests upon the lava lake above the poison mountains of the Earthen Peak under the watchful eye of Mytha. Need I go on?]

[As far as i am aware, you just blabbered a whole bunch of nonsense] Brent answered honestly, [alright, that’s gonna take some looking into, how did you arrive in Japan?]

[Through the passway ritual we performed with an ally in Things Betwixt, bounding myself and Shanalotte back to this world] Izuku answered as though it were the most obvious thing, though Brent could already feel a few more grey hairs growing.

[Alright, i got no clue what to ask next, do you two have any family?] Brent asked, throwing up his hands at attempting to get a straight answer from the two who seemed to have fallen out of a fantasy.

[I do wonder should my mother still walk amongst the living, and if so, I would bid you to invite her to reclaim me] Izuku suggested as Brent turned to Shanalotte who shrugged and shook her head.

[As I said, I was reborn on the breaking of this day.]

[Right, I’ll check to see if i can find your mom, in the meanwhile, why don’t you two relax, i’ll have someone bring in some crackers or something since i bet donuts would be too sweet for you, or something like that] Brent sighed, grabbing his mask and affixing it once more to his face, exiting the room leaving the pair alone.

[Izuku, why do we play this game?] Shanalotte questioned of the other person in the room, turning to face him, peering through the auburn locks of hair, [why stop our search and count on some guard?]

Izuku hummed a note, [i have, a memory, of my mother telling me, to the effect, should i er’ be lost, find a hero, and they shall reunite us] Izuku said wistfully, [and should that fail, we can leave and continue our hunt for my mother. With their advanced sorceries of communication, I'd wager they could find her in a mere few weeks.]

[While their sorceries are indeed marvelous, they also consume poison willingly] Shanalotte said with a pout, [i am concerned for such a people who poison themselves so willingly.]

[As though there is necessarily a better choice] Izuku said with a sigh, [we are outsiders, even if this culture is where i was born, i’ve lived for who knows how long outside this realm.] Looking up at the ceiling Izuku considered for a moment if leaving these heroes and searching on their own would be a better choice. [Shanalotte, if they fail to bring us anything about my mother within a reasonable amount of time, say, a week, we’ll move on.]

[That short a time? I would’ve expected a month for their messengers to spread across the land and bring word of her life or death] Shanalotte exclaimed, [you trust them less than even the former queen.]

[She was an ally in the dark even if our goals were maligned and contradictory in some senses] Izuku countered, [we agreed upon the premise of our natures, and in the end she did not betray that trust any more than I did.] Stretching out in his chair, Izuku fiddled with the chimes affixed to his left arm, the gentle jingling filling the room as the door opened, a plain faced woman wearing a blue outfit stepping through and placing a strange package of crackers on the table, one end opened.

[I do not trust these crackers] Shanalotte said, prodding the package which crinkled and made a loud noise at her touch.

[Nor do I] Izuku agreed looking at the clock, which seemed to function independent of a counterweight or sunlight. The pair relaxed a bit, leaving their chairs and settling into a corner of the room, facing the door. [I’ll take first watch] Izuku commanded solemnly, [moreover, your talents would be worthless indoors.]

[Should you be injured, do not fail to count upon my miracles] Shanalotte replied, closing her eyes.

[You say, having forwent the miracles instead consuming estus] Izuku jeered at his companion.

[It was a displeasing taste, like overcooked meat] Shanalotte replied, [I shall rest now] and with that she fell asleep on command, a talent of hers, possibly an effect of her being. The pair only waited as the longer hand moved from the 2 to the 5 before a loud knocking at the door roused them to their feet, Izuku brandishing his staff and Shanalotte standing behind him, pulling off her gloves as a backup plan, though she had no knowledge of fighting with her claws. The door opens as Brent returns with papers clutched in his hands, his mask still affixed to his face, giving him the visage of an insect.

[Well kid, good news, your mother is indeed alive and should be here pretty soon, we just need you to sign some documents about this and that so we can release you and your sword back in your hands, after some, uh, people look at it… And, sorry for what you went through, welcome back to Japan] Brent said laying the documents on the table as Izuku and Shanalotte relaxed slightly, [didn’t like the crackers?] Brent questioned, noting the untouched package while the pair attempted to read the documents were written in a language both understood contextually to be Japanese.

[I cannot read this] Izuku stated blandly.

[Nor can I] Shanalotte agreed.

[Just sign here] Brent said, indicating as to a dotted line upon which they would sign. Izuku shrugged and began pulling out one of his ink reservoirs and pens to sign his and Shanalotte’s name. [Aren’t you gonna let the lady sigh for herself?]

[I cannot read nor write] Shanalotte stated blandly, [twas ner’ in the things I would need to learn.]

Brent blew a raspberry at the absurdity of the whole situation, [man, you know know how rare it is for something like this to even happen.]

[Not being able to read and write?] Shanalotte questioned.

[Yeah, that, but also, you, Izuku, you’ve been missing for 10 years, like, completely gone from the earth, most people, if they’re gone for a week, they’re gone fer good, but you? You’re a lucky one, probably broke a record or somethin’ too] Brent said with something between a gracious deference to the situation Izuku had gone through and a spot of pride at the accomplishment of his survival. Izuku worked through the stack of paperwork, signing his and Shanalotte’s names wherever Brent directed him.

Climbing from the table, Izuku and Shanalotte followed the gun toting hero back into the main area of the building, [how many days do you suppose it will take for my mother to arrive?] Izuku questioned of the hero.

[Days?] Brent asked a bit taken aback, [she said she’d be on over in ‘round about half an hour, yer gonna have a hard time adjusting if ya think things move that slowly] Brent said with a mocking tone. Rounding the corner of the hallway, the trio arrived at a common room of sorts where a few persons wearing the same uniform as the woman who delivered the crackers milled about. [Why don’t you two relax on the couch while we wait for your mom to get here?]

[I would be amenable to that, provided this couch holds no secret treacheries] Izuku agreed, walking in step with Shanalotte who took the lead in setting down on the couch, a wide curious smile spreading across her face.

[This couch is very soft! What luxurious people these are! Surely they are immensely wealthy to afford such a marvelous thing!] Shanalotte exclaimed, patting the couch [come Izuku, you must experience the springiness of this furnishing.] Izuku walked over to the couch and sat upon it, bouncing slightly. 

Humming a pleased tune, [you’re right, it is quite springy.]

The masked hero shook his head at the pair before withdrawing a brown liquid from a pitcher which Izuku and Shanalotte believed to be coffee based upon his adding milk and a white granulated substance akin to the sugar from the earlier occasion. The pair leaned up against one another, silently resting against one another, eyes peeled for any who would do them harm - including the vagrant, E-Era’sir, who was sat on the opposite wall of the room. Time passed as the pair gazed upon the room, though found the changing of the persons resting within the common area being the most interesting. None would stay more than a few moments, as if they all had some duties to attend to rapidly, though they’d repeatedly stalk over towards the device which produced coffee.

[They truly love their poison do they not?] Shanalotte asked rhetorically, commenting on her further distaste for the brown liquid, coffee. [Are these humans immune to said poison?] She wondered.

[I know not, but given you were poisoned, i’d ner’ attempt it myself for fear of a similar fate] Izuku agreed, settling back into the comfortable silence which rest between them. The pair continued to observe and enjoy the relative peace of the common area, which kept at a fairly quiet level of ambiance as blue suited persons and other odd characters passed through on a slow rotation. It would be an untold number of minutes, though no more than 20, when Brent returned. [What news do you hold for us Brent?] Izuku questioned of the hero.

[Again, call me Snipe, at least when I’m in my costume-]

[Costume? I was unaware of a galla or other event which might necessitate such garb] Shanalotte questioned, cutting the hero off.

[No, what I’m wearing right now, it’s a hero costume] Brent explained with an ounce of exasperation on his voice. [Anyways, your mom got here Izuku, why don’t we go meet her?]

[Incredible that she could arrive so suddenly, though, I'll not travel to her lest you permit Shanalotte to travel with me] Izuku asserted, though he loved his mother, his companion was more trustworthy having aided him through hardship and pain time and again.

[Like i said, i ain’t gonna split you and yer girlfriend up, so come on why don’t’cha?]

Izuku shrugged at the confirmation that he and Shanalotte would not be separated and rose to his feet, straightening out for a journey which would surely take several minutes. Shanalotte patted herself off from the couch, giving a confirming tug on her gloves and boots before nodding that she was ready as well. The pair followed Brent, or Snipe as he preferred to be called when donning his strange insectoid mask, through various halls until they reached the same front area they’d entered through.

“Izuku?” a voice rang out, drawing the attention of the scruffy green haired teen, who gazed across the room until coming across a similarly green-haired woman barely shorter than him. Tears filled her eyes as they flowed from his, pushing his staff to Shanalotte and walking forward uneasily.

“M-mom?” Izuku said with difficulty, the name for his mother being the only word he certainly remembered in Japanese.

“Izuku!” The woman he’d now identified as his mother shouted, running towards him and wrapping her arms around him in a large hug which, were it anyone else, he would have felt immense discomfort, but with her, it was only ease for him. Words flow from her mouth like water as tears wet his robes, both hers and his, a reunion of a supposed 10 years, the two having never truly forsaken one another. They cling to one another until her tears stop, breaking apart and allowing her to take a good look at him, smiling eyes meet his dull eyes, though a hint of a spark does yet remain within them, a smile as warm as the flame spreading across his face without permission.

“Mom” Izuku says again, knowing she likely knew not the common language and would be unable to understand his words. Turning to Snipe, [please inform my mother of the language barrier, tell her that i have missed her dearly] Izuku implored to the hero who stood next to Shanalotte, watching the scene unfold.

Snipe in turn said a few dozen things before pulling out a stack of cards, showing either side of them, on one side, a word, on the other symbols which Izuku recognized as Japanese, [I thought you might want to make use of these since we can’t exactly keep ya here] Snipe explained, before giving what Izuku and Shanalotte believed to be the same explanation to Izuku’s mother. The look on her face drops slightly before a smile returns, speaking something to Snipe who translates, [yer Ma loves you, missed ya just as much, maybe more. You’ll wanna get on going, I’ll explain the Shanalotte situation to her right quick ‘fore i see ya off.] More words were exchanged, including Izuku’s mother walking towards Shanalotte, bowing slightly, which confused the draconic girl, who bowed back, picking up on the social cues. 

Another few tense moments passed as Izuku’s mother properly introduced herself to Shanalotte, translated through Snipe, [Inko Midoriya, Izuku’s mother, she’s pleased to meet you and proud of you, Izuku, for finding such a nice girlfriend.]

[You’ve used that word more than once, what is a girlfriend?] Shanalotte questioned as Snipe waved them off, [I suppose it would be a friend who is a girl? I still prefer my title as Herald.] 

[It is not a bad summation, though, i would argue we might be closer than simple friends - comrades?]

[Partners?]

[Of sorts then, we are indeed partners.]

[You are also my savior] Shanalotte confirmed as they set off into the night, Inko leading them in some direction. Inko pulled up a card, which Shanalotte looked to Izuku for a translation - her lack of ability to read would be an issue to resolve. [What does the card say?]

[Walkway, a path, this seems a bit pointless frankly] Izuku commented, [simply following her should be all that is needed.]

Follow they did, watching Inko closely as she swiped some card across a machine which spat out a trio of cards which she gave to Izuku and Shanalotte, only for them to then hand them off to another person as they boarded a massive metal carriage. It was an awkward quiet ride, Inko and Izuku conversing using the cards with the odd comment from Shanalotte making its way into the conversation. The carriage rattled and shook upon the path as it traveled across the cityscape far faster than any beast, which drew the marvelling eye of Shanalotte, though the language barrier made the explanation Inko attempted to give an exercise in futility.

Izuku was overcome by the melancholy of this grey world, filled with bright lights, but empty of life as scant few peoples walked in the evening, under the false light of the structures which Inko had indicated to be streetlights or lamps. He longs not for the world where he’d been trapped, though this world seems to have changed much from his memories, smaller and less bright, less full of light and joy. The people he could see looked as downtrodden as the peasantry, but dressed as nicely as royals. Large elaborate pieces of artwork displayed the wealth of this culture, the vanity plain to observe as a distant sea draws closer.

* * *

A strangled breath escapes from Izuku as he writhes and screams at the nothingness lodged deep within his throat, choking on the inky, slimy darkness which had enveloped the hand which had just grabbed hold of his body and filled him with such terror that even if he couldn’t feel the heat of his tears in his eyes, he knew his screaming cries would be sounding throughout wherever he was laid out. He’d been falling just prior, or perhaps dragged through a sea of freezing cold slime which scared him to the point of not knowing what sort of terrors awaited him, though a cold feeling has begun to slip into his body during the fall which seemed to have lasted for years. He knows he is on the ground, though he cannot see, cannot hear, and can barely breathe through the thick mucus which has slipped into his throat blocking his screams for help.

_ For the world above, one sinks below _

A rumbling scream finally breaks through the blockage allowing Izuku to let out a scream of pain and agony as he can now feel something apart from the cold which coats his body like paint, clinging to him like a scared child. A nauseous feeling erupts within his stomach as vomit spews forth from his mouth, inky, dark and cold like the slime which clings to him in his entirety. The whole of his world shuddered like an old train on older rails as the cold feeling which coats him dries, leaving him alone in a world where he can hear once more, hear his hacking cough as the splatter of vomited mucuses rain down upon what sounds like stone.

_ For the sake of both _

The cold feeling which he’s been feeling dries further as, through tearfilled eyes, Izuku can see some sort of semblance of light surrounding the darkness of whatever crevasse he finds himself stashed within. He hears his own heavy panting and cries as the membrane of cold and slime clears from his senses as it 

finishes drying, leaving him partially blinded by his own tears, sat upon a cold stone slab, crying out for help.

_ Seek adversity, seek the fat of strength _

An indeterminate amount of time passed as Izuku begged for his mother, for Kacchan, for a hero, even for his father to come and save him, but none came, and soon, his tears dried as he looked out at his surroundings. Staring out into the sea of navy blue darkness, illuminated by what Izuku could only imagine to be the moon, he swallows back his fear and on weak legs raises to his feet. Looking over his body, he is covered in black muck, staining his All Might tee shirt and shorts, his red shoes coated with coagulated mucus which cracks and fractures as he takes a step. Shards of the inky, disgusting slime now solidified breaks and falls from his body, smashing upon hitting the pale stone slab he stands upon, under a roof of the same material - a gazebo. The world has quieted around him, and swallowing his fear, he steps off the security of the stone and into the waist high grasses which grow all around.

Balling his shirt in his hands, Izuku walks through the grasses until he arrives at a ledge overlooking a massive valley, pits which lead down to nothing and grassy, untrodden paths. The walls of this crevasse are steep, sheer stone cliffs, scarce few waterfalls overflowing the sides pouring down into the deeper abyss of the dropps. Awestruck is the best way to describe Izuku’s reaction, his fears temporarily held at bay by the overwhelming desire to explore this crazy new world like he would with Kacchan. The innocent thought of exploring the new strange world kept at bay the fear he must have felt deep down as he began, without another moment’s hesitation climbing and making his way down the hill he awoke and cried upon, pushing through thick bramble bushes and squeezing between trees larger than he’d ever seen before.

Stepping through a bush, he stumbles, tumbling down a hill, digging his feet into the soft earth as he grabs as the tall grasses to avoid the fate which lies at the cliff at the end of the hill. Rocks and sharp grass cut small paper cut lines into his shorts and hands as he came to a stop mere meters from the sharp drop off of another perilous cliff. Any innocent joy he’d held in wandering through the foreign world has disappeared just as quickly as it had arrived. Izuku’s eyes are wide as he stares for several tense minutes at his near death, uneasily getting to his feet, he spots another path from which he can continue towards the light - his destination.

A faint wisp of orange catches his light, and instantly his mind goes to fire, something made, something which meant there were other people here, people who could help him. A wave of relief flowed over him as he carefully, but deliberately walked and occasionally crawled towards that flickering orange light. He cares little for the mounting wear and tear of scratches, slow forming bruises, and dribble of snot in his fixation on reaching that fire and getting help.

His mind becomes lost in a haze as he passes through a waterfall which blocks his way, the world around him becoming so much brighter for just a moment as he drinks to quench a thirst he did not know he had. The water washes down his throat and over his body, but does not wash away the fear nor inky black mud which clings and stains his body like pomegranate on white shirts. Clearing the haze of his mind is the daunting challenge of an untrustworthy bridge, rickety, wooden, decrepit, ancient, creaking, and swaying in the lightest hints of a breeze upon the thick rope supports which separate Izuku from the glow of orange light which he seeks.

“I-I can’t” he says in despair as he looks over the bridge which seems read to, at a moment, collapse and throw itself deep into the abyss below. Some unknown force within him stirs, giving him false bravery as he nevertheless steps towards the bridge, the haze of his mind returns for just a moment, dropping down on all fours, he remembers a warning.

_ “If you ever find yourself on ice over water, crawl, do not walk. Move slowly and steadily to shore.” _

Such advice was, to say the least, usable in this situation as he places a hand on the first wooden plank of the bridge, noticing only a moment later at the large upright piece of wood splintered to the side of his exposed, bare hand. Swallowing the fear of a splinter, Izuku progresses, testing his way across the bridge slowly, surely, avoiding the odd splinter, though still feeling several pierce and lodge themselves in his hand. Biting through the pain, he progresses, knowing, through some unknown force, that he needed to keep moving towards the light for some reason.

A creak and a gust of wind send a shiver through Izuku’s body, the sound which echoes through the valley fills his head with worries, looking back against his own will, he sees it, the rope fraying ever so lightly. He stares as the rope settles once more, though the sound of another wind fills his ears moments before it arrives.

_ “Run.” _ A voice with no origin commands, of Izuku, whose mind empties as he kicks forward, scrambling in a dashing run towards the end of the bridge which cracks, creaks and ultimately snaps a mere meter from the end. Its a leap, two hands clutch the ropes which held the bridge in place, and though the pain of the rough rope digging into his hands pains him so, he climbs up using the planks of wood as makeshift rungs in a ladder, though with each one’s breaking, he slides downward towards his doom, hands bleeding and rife with fibrous splinters. A pained, clenched grin spreads across his face as he slowly ascends, tears pouring down his checks as the empty smile pushes him to keep pressing forward, going beyond his limits. Each grabbing of rope drives the painful fibers deeper into his hands as he screams through the pain, not giving into his tears until he rolls over the top of the cliff, hands bloodied and burning with splinters. Screams of pain fill the valley in place of the wind as Izuku faces his bloodied palms.

Another flicker of orange distracts him from the searing pain of his ruined hands, climbing back to his feet, Izuku stumbles slightly, but, wrapping his hands in the cloth of his shirt, walks forward, transfixed upon the flicker of fire. The flame he sought was indeed resting upon a stone pedestal, one of several creating a pathway towards a break in the crevice through which the sounds of lapping waves could be heard. Calling out and hearing no replay, Izuku struggled forward despite the pain of his hands, thinking he could wash them in the waters to help them heal.

Hope fills him as the warm amber glow of a whole new world embraces him, a coastal town on the edge of a cliff standing apart with a singular jutting obelisk which stands in defiance of some unknown force. There is a path here, trodden dirt packed down by the soles of souls who’ve met some terrible fate. A genuine smile spreads across his face as he basks in the warm sunlight and begins walking towards the village, blood dripping through his All Might tee shirt and onto his shorts, staining them.

* * *

Inko tugs at Izuku’s cloak, breaking him off from some memory as he gazes out the window of the stopped metal carriage, pulling his and Shanalotte’s attention from their surroundings to her now standing body, indicating through her hands and head movements they will disembark here. Raising in turn, the pair follow her off the carriage, descending from the elevated platform down to ground level, headed towards a street which brought them near to the shore, beyond which the moon reflected upon the water which lapped away pleasingly.

Inko lead on while Izuku and Shanalotte kept their eyes peeled for any who might assault them, aware of the threat that vagrants such as E-Era’sir might lurk in the guises of heroes. Some parts of the journey jogged vague memories in Izuku, though none were substantive enough to give any pause as they walked past buildings akin to mansions, with many doors set on their faces. Moving past them, a memory of such places returned to his mind, searching through the cards, he offers one to Inko: House.

Taking the card, she turns and smiles, handing him one from the stack after searching for a moment: Small, one. Izuku took this to mean that she had a small house, which was an odd thought, knowing from hazy memories that the place they used to dwell was not a house, but something more akin to the building covered in doors. Behind each door a small house for the occupants, all sharing a common roof. Walking past the building, a foul stench reaches his and Shanalottes nose on the wind. Blood, rust, and a certain sort of decay which Izuku knew intimately. The fever pitch of tension in the pair reached a higher point, drawing back into defensive stances. 

Shooting them a worried look, Inko pulls a card: good. Izuku can tell she means it as a question, and shakes his head, tugging on his nose, to which Inko made a knowing sound before pointing at the beach, or what could be a beach beneath the deluge of twisted metals and other items piled upon its shore.

[They treat such things with such wretched disdain? How contemptuous are these people of nature?] Shanalotte said with a judgmental tone, [should we pass this place frequently, I might suggest cleaning it, the smell is hardly bearable] Shanalotte continued releasing her fingers from her nose and starting to breath through her mouth.

[Perhaps that is what shall need to be done, though we are still not even settled, let us wait a while longer before we make sweeping judgements of these people] Izuku defended of his native land before continuing on with Inko towards her presumed house. The small home resided near the beach, with a not insignificantly sized front lawn before the modest home, Inko walked directly towards the building while Izuku brought forth his staff in a defensive posture while Shanalotte began to pray over her feather. Inko turned back in time to see a pair of pulses surrounding the two, Izuku’s a swirling grey and Shanalotte’s one of sunlight, a faint haze surrounding both as they stepped trepidatiously forward. Inko entered her home and bid them to join her inside, making a special point to have them remove their shoes before entering the home, which was more of a struggle than she’d have expected.

Izuku’s boots carefully stitched together and required an extensive amount of untrying of various layers of interwoven cloths which all were etched with runes of another language forming a binding between the boots and the frayed pant legs under the tall leather boots which clunked to the ground like a pair of rocks. Inko held herself back from gagging at the sight of his filthy, blackened with dirt feet which reeked of something foul, forcing her to bring him outside to wash his feet with a hose. Spraying his feet with cold water was not a pleasant experience for either as he squirmed as layers of filth peeled away revealing his still dirty, stained black feet, though Inko eventually relented and allowed him to dry his feet with a towel before allowing him inside.

Shanalotte faced different issues, namely those brought about by her half dragon being, causing her feet to possess small, razor sharp claws which worried Inko to no end - though, thankfully, her feet were markedly more clean compared to Izuku’s. Her boots were long leather things, bound and tied up with further leather straps which slacked much easier than Izuku’s complicated boots, an inner layer of cloth sealing them to the exterior elements which could freely strike at her exposed thighs beneath her dress. The changeover between the covered portion of her legs and the uncovered portion was distinct in the level of dirtiness and tanning of her skin.

Inko was struck by how filthy the pair were, and, using a device not unlike the one which E-Era’sir used to contact Snipe, spoke words which were translated through the miraculous device. [Please use the bath] beckoning the pair to follow, she led them through the small house, plastered with images of her and Izuku from days long gone, including several posters which read in the common language “missing.”

It was touching to Izuku that she’d never given up hope of meeting with him again, his trust was not misplaced in believing in her. She smiled at them in front of a small room which contained a basin which she interacted with as water began to sprout from a nozzle on the wall for a moment before she pressed upon the switch to show them that by pressing the button water could be gotten. Both nodded and began to pull away at their clothes before Inko stopped Izuku.

Pushing him backwards, she brought her device to her mouth, speaking before a translation was made available, [let Shana bathe first] she requested. Izuku shrugged, not understanding the issue that Inko had with him bathing with his ally, he’d been entrusted with her by the dragon before their trip back towards the path to Japan and had known her for an impossibly long time. Directed towards a wooden chair around a table, Inko made use of her device once more, [take off your things; rest, you are home.]

[Home] Izuku repeated blandly, the reality of the situation not fully sinking in quite yet. Drawing back his hood once more, he ran a finger through his greasy hair, thick with typical dirt, blood, ooze, grime and other things. “H-ho-m-me” he said weakly in Japanese, something about her speaking the word unlocked a hidden floodgate within his mind as a haze of broken memories comes back to the forefront for mere moments as sparse tears dribble down his face, catching on his hitched breath. “H-home.”

Reaching around his neck, tears still falling from his dull eyes, he begins to pull and untie some of the bindings which latch his frayed cloak to his body, slowly and surely removing his outermost layers. First his cloak, then a layer of marked cloths which hold his hood, a torn and damaged thing to his person, then, a padded coat of leather and hide which had protected him from the blades of foes time and time again. Stripping away his layers of protection in the haze until he stood before the table wearing naught but his frayed pants and similarly frayed shirt, over which, covering just his breast, the stretched and ruined fragment of a shirt he’d never let go of since he’d been tossed into the inky depths countless years prior. The once blue shirt now pitch black, the marking upon it long faded and ruined beyond all sorts of recognition. Gingerly, he pulls at the fabric which tears under his touch as he removes it from his body, placing it atop the rest of his garb.

[May I wash or throw any of it away?] a request made by the device Inko spoke into, to which Izuku shook his head, for countless reasons. Pointing to the device, Inko offered it to him and motioned for him to speak.

[Do neither, their importance should ner’ be lost upon you mother] Izuku spoke to the device, which paused for a moment before a string of Japanese words sounded to his mother, who nodded benevolently.

[Izuku, would you ask your mother how to use the strange device?] Shanalotte questioned walking into the room fully nude. Inko turned to her and scrambled towards her while Izuku idly checked through the cards to see if he could translate that for her.

An hour later, Izuku settled into the bath, a carefully given instruction presented by Inko to him fresh on his mind about what to do now that he’d finished the main cleaning portion of his bath. Shanalotte rested on the couch in the main room of the cozy little house with Inko, dressed in sweatpants which had been cut below the knee for her as well as a sweatshirt which had been similarly trimmed to better accommodate her larger form. She was, slowly but surely, through the use of the device, speaking with Inko. She shared as little as possible, only that which seemed unimportant.

[How did you meet Izuku?] Inko questioned through the device.

[Around a bonfire, he was wounded, i offered aid to him] Shanalotte replied vaguely, knowing that exact situation could fit any number of encounters with Izuku, [or i met him at this day’s break when i was born.] She’d already admitted to having been born this day break, so there would be no issue in her mind restating such a thing.

Inko looked at her a bit concerned, speaking into her device which translated a moment later, [he was hurt? What happened to him?]

[He was injured, a common thing] Shanalotte replied, brushing a hand over a wound she’d received less than a few weeks after being born, a sweeping strike from a maddened person across her stomach. The wound had healed in total, though the mark from the dark magics remained. Though she’d not tell Inko this, she seemed the type to be overly anxious and nervous about such trivial things. Such a point was proven by the aghast look upon Inko’s face as she processed the information.

[How is that common? What sort of place were you?] the device said in a calm tone, which did not fit the frantic, scared tone Inko held in speaking to the construct.

Shanalotte thought for a moment before answering honestly enough, [a violent land of the sort where vagrants and vagabonds abound, where death hides behind each corner] she remarked, attempting to keep some semblance of calmness about herself as she described the wasted world of Drangleic which would be experiencing a revival soon as the day fully began. [Though worry for naught, Izuku and I’ve lived through said world to arrive here, we have no fatal wounds.] Such words were meant to soothe, though it appeared as though they failed as Inko only became a bit more frantic. Deciding to physically comfort the woman, Shanalotte stepped next to the woman who birthed her savior, placing a hand on her as tears began to fall.

It was another dozen or so minutes before Shanalotte found herself on a couch under a luxuriantly soft blanket while Inko tended to her son, placing him in her own bedroom for them to rest for the evening. Shanalotte closed her eyes but did not sleep, instead waiting for a chance to slip into the same bedroom as to be closer to her ally. Though he was supposedly disarmed, his magic could still protect them until his weapon was returned. 

She would wait to ensure his safety, to ensure they’d ner’ be stricken down in their slumbers, so, she waited for a while before sitting upright upon the couch, rolling out her neck and placing her feet onto the carpet of the room, her nails just barely catching on the fabrics. It was a slight irritant, her clawed feet, catching on the soft fabrics of the carpet. Raising up and draping the luxuriously soft blanket around her shoulders, Shanalotte paused for a moment, listening to the world around her for the sounds of Izuku and Inko. Creeping through the home which, to Izuku and Inko, would have been nearly pitch black, Shanalotte walked down the hall towards the bedroom where she’d changed and spotted a bed. The door was ajar and from within she could hear the steady breathing of Izuku as well as the unfamiliar breathing of Inko, both steady enough to give her the idea of them being asleep. Pushing open the door, she peeks inside at the bed, upon which Izuku slumbers while Inko remains at the bedside. Both of their faces are sufficiently tearstained, walking until she stands over her savior, she stared and inspected his freshly cleaned face.

He’d not shaved and the scraggly hints of a darkened green beard stuck to his face like grains of sand on stone were still plain to see. Inko was as she had been before she’d been given the blanket upon which to sleep, teary yet smiling provided Izuku was near. Shanalotte considered for a moment before smiling, her savior was safe for the moment, retreating back to the door frame and closing it behind with just one more sneaking glance at the pair. Relinquishing her grip on the door knob, Shanalotte took a moment to observe the pictures around the house. Several of which, clustered together, were of a young boy which she’d expect to be Izuku based upon the freckles and green hair with bright green eyes, the same eyes he had when they’d first met before his fateful trip. 

Contented with her sentry duties for the evening, she returned to the couch which was far softer than the one Snipe had showed to them after the interview, swaddling herself in the blanket which was more gentle to the touch than even the most prized of animal pelts, Shanalotte laid herself out on the couch, closing her eyes and going to sleep in an instant.

* * *

Izuku awoke in the morning as a beam of early light strikes his face from a crack in the blinds, blinking twice, a fleeting moment of panic leaves his body as he remembers the events of the previous evening which resulted in his return to Japan and leaving of the world below behind. Leaning up in bed, he looks over the warm bed he finds himself in, situated in the middle of a room of small size compared to the rest of the rooms in the abode, and similarly modest in furnishings. Looking at the side of the bed, he finds his mother, Inko asleep, draped over the side of the bed with a smile on her face, for reasons he can imagine.

Maneuvering as to not wake his sleeping mother, Izuku carefully, both to not damage the fine blankets and sheets and to avoid jostling her, exits the bed, pulling the covers from his body revealing his clothing. He’d donned a similar outfit to that of Shanalotte, grey sweat pants and shirt which had been trimmed to better fit his body, though unlike Shanalotte, it was mostly for his own comfort and utility and not due to his being noticeably larger than his mother. Exiting the bedroom, he notes and takes hold of his chimes and staff before leaving, the gentle jingle sounding only for a moment before sealing the door behind him.

Strapping the shield of chimes to his arm and pulsing the staff to awaken the magical mechanisms stored within its body, Izuku feels complete with the return of two of his instruments, though the lack of his rapier at his side does indeed disquiet him. Walking down the hall, he arrives at the couch where his mother indicated Shanalotte would be sleeping, instead he finds the spot empty. He is not worried however as he walks over to the table and pulls his padded armor on, over his shirt along with a set of pouches attached to a belt from which he can pull a myriad of useful tools. There is however something lacking in the current moment, namely food, and knowing Shanalotte she was on the same mental track. Such was evidenced by her boots missing from the front hall. Carefully tying his own boots back to his feet, comforted in the heft on the boots he’d owned for an unknown length of time, he opens the door to find his auburn haired partner standing just outside on the lawn of the house, waiting for him.

[How did your eve fair?] Shanalotte asks of her ally, [did you enjoy your sleep with your mother by your side?]

[Indeed I did] Izuku replied as his stomach growled, [I know not if mother keeps food, what say we hunt?]

[We lack such tools Izuku, lest you mean to peruse that mound of trash for some weapon] Shanalotte commented, [then we might feast upon seabirds, a delicacy.]

[Then we shall hunt them] Izuku agreed, noting her lack of leather armor, he questions her [are you deciding to forgo your protection for some reason?]

[I simply did not desire to equip myself, give me moments and i shall dress properly] Shanalotte replied with a slight nod of her head as she returned to the interior of the house, pulling her leathers from the table where they rested next to Izuku’s own. [What thoughts did you have of the previous night’s cleaning?]

[It is odd they waste such pristine water on something so unnecessary] Izuku began, [the soaps for hair and body smell of flowers which is odd, i know from my memories that my mother did not lead a life of luxury - perhaps that has changed.] Izuku pondered, [what of your experience with the washing?]

[I found the warm water pleasant and easily drinkable as it poured over mine body, I lacked knowledge such filth clung to myself, though i too fail to understand why they would use it so readily for simple bathing] Shanalotte remarked, [one might think they create pure water with magic, though if that be the case, i worry for those who drink the water so readily.]

[Did you not just admit to drinking the water?] Izuku questioned his companion as she began to pull her breastplate on, over her head and bare body before wrapping her red corded feather back to her body, forgoing her skirt in place of the sweat pants trimmed to be shorts.

[I indeed did] Shanalotte replied without guilt or shame, [and though it tasted pure, I still am concerned if it be the product of magic, that which corrupts slowly.]

[And your opinion of the soaps?]

[Floral things, far too strong to suit my senses, I forewent them as much as possible, though still used them to clean the filth from my body - they left my skin softer to the touch I noticed.]

[Is that so?] Izuku questioned, he’d not noticed any change in the touch of his skin walking up to her, he gently poked at her exposed stomach, which confirmed it was indeed softer than the last time he’d touched her stomach. [I see, perhaps the soaps weaken the body then, we might ner’ use them again if they leave us prone to harm.]

[I take no issue with that] Shanalotte agreed, [survival is of the utmost importance.] Shanalotte’s stomach growled once more, [I am suited] she spoke as she finished tying her feather to herself, [now we shall hunt] she declared, leading the way out the front door. Izuku knew to trust her sense of direction, she’d not wandered the world as he had, not taken in the nonsensical nature of it and lost her sense of direction as he had.

The world was still fresh with due, and the pair kept to the sides of the roads on their journey back to the shore laden with remnants of metal and thick with the scent of blood, rust, decay and, upon reflection, Izuku recognized a scent which Shanalotte would never smell. The main of the road was dominated by fast moving metal beasts as they walked along the nearly perfectly flat stonework towards the shore of the sea. The shining sun breaks through the altostratus cloud cover, hiding away the pristine blue sky above, shining along the path the two walk in silence, the only sound being from Izuku’s chimes and the odd click of his staff along the ground. 

Rounding a corner, the sight of the seawall which guards the road from the filth covered shoreline comes into view for the pair, Shanalotte slowing as she walks instep with Izuku instead of leading him. The shadows the junk casts upon the wall and street beyond are akin to something Izuku has seen before, while to Shanalotte they look like a strange mangled form which would be at home in shining a torch through a destroyed building rather than anything specific. As they make their way down the seawall until coming to a halt just before a landing above the majority of the metal carcassas which lie on the beach. Spotting an opening in the wall of metal, the pair squeeze their way though into a pocketed opening in the heap, instantly something catches Izuku’s eye.

The burned and scarred wreckage of a colossus, twisted and warped to the point of splintering into shards which remain affixed to some remnant wooden body. Though such a find was invaluable, it was also worthless to him in that moment as he lacked any need for the heavy materials, thus, he made a mental note instead of harvesting any shards. [This whole place is a waste of fine materials] Izuku bemoans the wasteful nature of this civilization which he finds himself amongst.

[I agree, and though i know less of metal than thou, i can agree to the waste of such things - it is not even as with the pit where corpses are tossed, there are no corpses here, only valuable metals] Shanalotte agreed, touching the frame of what could have been one of the metal beasts which trod upon the main of the street.

[Tis though they care not for waste] Izuku observed, [they have grown fat upon whatever magic allows such an easy life.]

[Should the magic die, countless would perish in an instant, or perhaps in less than a year] Shanalotte posited, [I doubt there are many who’d be well suited to life without their magical devices aiding them.]

[I wonder if whomever controls the heroes controls that same magic?] Izuku pondered as they pushed through another pile of scrapped metal to arrive at the break between the wall of trash and the lapping waters. Shanalotte’s stomach growled louder, a not-so-silent plea to feed. [Then, let us hunt] Izuku replied to an implicit question, drawing up his staff and chime over his head, rapidly chanting, incanting, and reciting a series of prayers and commands in a language which cannot be understood, his focus fixed upon a seabird a distance away.

Shanalotte too joins in the endeavor, bringing her feather to her lips, reciting a prayer before drawing back and pointing towards a different seabird. Moments pass as the waves lap against the shore, no magics emerging from the artefacts which have cast such magics and miracles countless times before. A spike of tension emerges from the pair as Shanalotte and Izuku begin to repeat their efforts to cast magic upon the seabirds the desire to consume, alas their magics fail once more.

[What has become of my magics!] Izuku barked at the world and his staff, [what sorcery has blocked my magics and spells!]

[Is my faith lacking?] Shanalotte shivered as she stared at her feather, [Izuku, is my faith lacking?] She asked with an edge to her voice, [assure me of my faith O’ Savior!] She demanded with scared eyes.

[A moment and i shall assure you!] Izuku snapped, bringing his staff and shield of chimes together as a thought finally emerged from his worried mind, reaching into the pile of trash and withdrawing a hunk of metal with his right hand, he brought up his scepter and began reciting another spell. Finishing the spell, he brought the planetary model to his right hand which clutched the improvised weapon, shading the metal in the dark haze of his magic for a moment before it sank into the weapon, which began to glow a dim purple in his hand. [See this, our magics are not gone, sealed in some way, but not gone, your faith is not misplaced either, i shall devise a solution that our miracles and magics may continue to be our] Izuku promised to Shanalotte, bringing the weapon to his arm and cutting a small wound into his flesh, [prove your faith whole and heal this minor wound, do not doubt yourself Shanalotte.]

[I shall] Shanalotte said bringing her feather to her lips, reciting a tale of a being which was regarded as the lord of sunlight’s daughter, a princess of the Sun, it was a long chant for her magic, but as she unleashed the magics, a massive pulse of pure, warm and soothing sunlight grew around her, spreading out across the sand and sealing Izuku’s wound in an instant, while also dispelling the purple haze of his weapon. Shanalotte wasted no time to inspect Izuku’s arm, running her gloved fingers across the wounds several times over. [There remains no wound] she said at long last, a sigh escaping her before pressing her head to his arm, [there is no wound, my faith remains strong and pure.]

[Twas ner’ a doubt that you possessed ample faith Shanalotte] Izuku commented to her, tossing the improvised weapon aside to pat her head, [your faith only wavers because of this strange world, not for a lacking of self - worry not] he commanded of the woman he’d been entrusted with by the ancient dragon. 

[How shall we hunt without our magics?] Shanalotte questioned, drying her tears upon his arm. Izuku had no immediate answer as he was without his weapon, though looking back towards the pile of metal, an idea formed in his mind, one which would surely favor them.

[I shall fashion a basic bow for you] Izuku advised, [in the meanwhile, i do not doubt this sea possesses seagrass which we can make use of for storing the meat, so, i ask you to fetch the grasses for us while i work.]

Without a word, Shanalotte began to remove her top and boots, she’d learned first hand the discomfort of wearing wet equipment for an extended period of time, and that in matters of swimming, being nude was the prefered state of dress. Izuku turned to the pile and began to search for a set of limbs from which he could fashion a bow as well as a cord which could serve as a bowstring for his ally. Catching a glimpse of his companion, he remarked on her still freshly gotten body.

She was taller than him by a few inches, standing a full 5 feet and 7 and a half inches, well taller than his own comparatively meager 5 feet and 5 inches. Her skin was sunkissed, but the most noticeable aspect of her nude body were her scales, clusters of natural armor which grew across her shoulders and lined her spine and further. They were faint to notice, though possessed a greenish hue, and having touched them himself, knew them to be softer than the stone scales of those who could be called her forefather and ancestors. She was more akin to that genuine crossbreed from that era long ago, and though she lacked the same tail or horned brows, some articles of her bore a resemblance to the draconic child of yore. One such similarity would have been her bust, which was, put politely, mature. 

In the time since acquiring this genuine body, scarce few scars had found their way onto her body, fitted between the scales on her body which served as natural armor to injury. The patches of scales extended across her body, strangely onto her ankles despite their being limited danger to such parts of the body. There existed no scales upon her stomach or breasts, the soft belly of her body being open to wounding in much the same way as any other draconic being. Turning back to his duties, memories of her skin when her body was truly freshly granted, pure and soft, free of freckle and scar crossed his mind - she was like a newborn deer in that bygone time, and though they’d traveled the world to escape that world, she would always seek to learn more, a natural consequence of her intellect and lack of knowledge.

Pulling a wooden beam, Izuku tested it against the ground and found the blackened wooden limb sufficient to serve as the body of the bow in and of itself. Idly tossing the salvaged piece of wood, Izuku dug through carcasses of metal and spralls of sand for a cord with which to notch the bow, keeping an eye for wood or metal which might serve as basic arrows for the archer. His searching through the debris took him minutes, but provided with a few options for bowstrings, an alternative bow limb and a scant few metal rods which might’ve been usable as arrows. Resting atop a large, white, metallic box, Izuku pulled a meager knife and began to widdle the ends of the wooden limbs to form basic notches from which the tied off wires could fit over as a bowstring.

It took him a few minutes, but as Shanalotte emerged from the sea, fistfulls of seagrass in her hands, he finished with the first of his arrows, and though he lacked feathers to better guide the arrows as they flew, he believed that Shanalotte would have no issue with the subpar arrows. [Finished with that weapon are you?] Shanalotte questioned, laying the seagrass upon the sand, [hand it here, I shall loose those arrows and claim these seabirds for our breakfast] Shanalotte declared reaching for the bow leaned up against Izuku’s metal box.

[I am sorry I cannot offer better arrows] Izuku apologized, [but know that I have faith in your abilities with a bow.]

Snatching up the weapon and knocking an arrow against her thumb, the still nude Shanalotte breathed steadily as she took aim at a seabird not far away. Using just the talons on her hands to clutch the bowstring, she pulled back with the weapon creaking under the stress. Izuku knew her strength was inhuman, just as she was inhuman, a half dragon created through magic rituals and dragon bones with a soul of a genuine keeper of flames. Unleashing the first shot, the air flew true and struck the targeted seabird in the throat, allowing no dying squawk. Shanalotte had no pause as she took another arrow and repeated the process until there were no arrows remaining in their stock. With a pleased sigh, Shanalotte regarded the bodies of bird strewn across the sand, [only 26 by my count, sufficient for a day or two] she commented.

[You forget we’ve mother to potentially feed] Izuku advised, pausing a moment, [though, perhaps she knows some magic to produce food for herself? It would explain the weight of the people in this world.] He hummed for a moment, [perhaps your estimate is spot on, I shall collect and clean the birds while you dress.]

[Nonsense, I’ll not be dry by the time you finish, I shall join you in the process until i am dried] Shanalotte defied, smiling with her sharp, draconic teeth, eager to get her hands on meat.

[How could i refuse such a smile] Izuku said in jest, [well then, let us collect your kills.]

The pair walked across the beach, collecting the slain birds before setting about feathering them, collecting the feathers to better the arrows, and gutting the birds on the spot, allowing their guts to stain the beach. Wrapping the gutted birds in the freshly gotten seagrass, which was noticeably wider than the sort they typically found in the sea, Shanalotte dressed herself before they began their trip back to Inko’s home. Though she elected not to wear her shoes on the walk back, citing the discomfort of sand within her shoes, a discomforting memory for her.

Upon returning to the home, they face an issue with the design of the house, the lack of a fire pit for them to cook their freshly hunted birds upon. Moving off to the side of the house, the pair make use of the bow to clear a patch where they make use of some spare wood to start a small fire before sticking the birds on arrows and beginning to cook the flesh to the preferred temperatures. For Shanalotte, that means rare, bloody rare, the sort of rare that only half beasts like her partook in joyously. So much anticipation was evident from her that a small drop of drool escaped her mouth as she stared at the cooking birds as the turned golden before being pulled off the fire, placed upon fresh leaves while another set were placed over the fire.

They were content in their little batch of cooking, which meant that it of course had to end with a scream from Inko as she spotted the two happily feasting upon the birds. Shanalotte eating the birds rare, bone and all, blood dripping from her chin and Izuku eating the bird well done, bordering on charred, both happy to be eating something so early in the morning. Inko, seeing them both eating the birds, and cooking an additional pair of birds, stared at them incredulously for a moment before rushing inside the house.

[Do you think she is upset about us gathering food for her?] Izuku questioned Shanalotte, who possessed better skills with reading people.

[I think it is because we went without her] Shanalotte provided with a degree of authority. [She likely wanted to show us her power or skill at hunting, or perhaps something to do with her magical talent.]

[Ah!] Izuku remarked, [that would make sense, I should expect them to be far advanced in magics, so as to show that talent would be worth her time. Do you think they might not even need to hunt?] Izuku offered.

[As to be expected, such an advanced magical civilization would possess the ability to forego hunting] Shanalotte said as an apparent expert. Izuku sighed at her haughtiness, dragons were prideful creatures, such would obviously extend to her as well. [Though, i suspect you’d be more than able to advance their magic with your brilliant prowess] Shanalotte said a bit more humble, [your mastery over magic is truly wondrous.]

[Your compliments are appreciated Shanalotte] Izuku graciously accepted, [how is the bird?]

Shanalotte chomped down, biting through the bones and breast of the bird, crunching through and savoring the crunchy bones and lovely juices, smiling as she chewed through the flesh and bone. [Tis scrumptious] she said through a mouthful of bird. Swallowing down the bite, [these birds are so fat, like plump little morsels, like the thighs of those saintesses.]

Izuku shrugged to her reminiscing of eating the thighs of the priestesses of the shrine, he took no issue with her consuming the flesh of other half humans, though he always preferred his meat to have no human in it. [I wouldn’t know, I simply ate their rations instead of their meat.] The fire and kindling crackling and snapping as the avian grease dribbled down, dripping into the flames as the few birds still cooking offered their juices in tribute to the flames. Izuku idly chewed on his bird as memories of the most horrid meal flashed before him, the consumption of the tar eels deep within the depths of Black Gulch, the thought of poison, burning tar pits, the screams of the eels, and pitch black caverns sheltering countless creatures who would do him harm.

Another crack as Shanalotte bit through another piece of bird shook him from his memory of the worst meal he’d ever eaten, though, his thoughts on the insects and monstrosities of the depths of that pit lingered a moment longer as he spied a similarly insect-faced person walking down the street with a large case upon their back. [Ah, Snipe, he comes] Izuku idly observed taking another bite of his bird as Inko exited the house walking towards them with the device which turned Japanese into the common language.

[For what reason do you suppose?] Shanalotte questioned through yet another mouthful of bone and flesh, crunching through the morsel as she finished her question.

[Izuku, where did you two get those birds?] Inko’s device questioned the pair, her eyes worried.

Offering the device, Izuku responded to her question, [Shanalotte and I went to the shoreline to hunt and claim this food, you were still asleep when we left.] Inko looked taken aback as the answer played back to her in Japanese.

It was at this time Snipe stepped foot onto the property, [well good morning yall, seems ya having a nice little meal there,] he greeted Izuku and Shanalotte before speaking a similar greeting to Inko, who spoke back to him quickly. It was evident from the conversations between the two that there was some issue, though the exact nature of said issue would be difficult for Izuku and Shanalotte to place. Looking at one another, they shrugged as they continued to enjoy their breakfast of the fatty birds. [Say] Snipe commented on removing his mask to reveal his buzzed head and scraggly beard [I ain’t eaten yet, mind if i take a bird for myself?] He questioned approaching them and sitting upon the grass around the fire with them.

Izuku looked to the birds cooking over the fire, they had a meager 8 remaining, and though he’d thought they might last a while longer, Shanalotte had eaten more than her fair share, [I’ve no issue with your partaking in this food, lest Shanalotte object] Izuku contended, passing the question to the draconic girl who was in the process of eating the head of a bird.

[I’ve no issue] Shanalotte agreed, a fragment of bone flying from her mouth and landing in the fire, which crackled in appreciation for her offering, a natural consequence of her being a keeper of fire. She possessed many innate magics by virtue of her being so uniquely created, affinity for the flames was one such thing, the bonfires she created never fading unless she willed them to do so.

Pulling a bird off the makeshift arrows turned skewers, Snipe bit into the breast, chewing for a moment before swallowing back the bird flesh, [so where’d ya get these?]

[We hunted them on the shoreline] Izuku answered, which must’ve been an answer Snipe, or Brent as he supposedly preferred when not wearing his mask, found dissatisfying as he spat the bird meat into the fire. [Are these seagulls?] He questioned with an incredulous look about him.

[Yes] Shanalotte answered, leaning back, biting the wing off her bird, [they are quite fatty and delicious, a true delicacy] she happily commented, and indeed they were, Izuku found himself amazed at the juiciness of the birds.

[Seagulls are loaded with disease!] Brent exclaimed, a shock to Izuku and Shanalotte who’d never suffered from such things, though they supposed there was a certain reason why. Izuku looked to Shanalotte who shrugged and took another bite, [seriously! You two could get some serious health issues if you keep eating these birds! Like mercury poisoning, and Shanalotte you shouldn’t be eating the bones, i don’t care if you’re a mutant dragon things, that cannot be healthy!] Brent continued as Shanalotte calmly chewed and swallowed her mouthful of bird. Izuku on the other hand decided he was full enough and resolved to simply wrap the remaining cooked birds in more seagrass.

[Fret not Brent] Shanalotte soothed, [though i know not what disease you speak of, rest assured i can heal such issues for Izuku and myself - my faith has proven itself today, and it shall not falter once more.] Brent looked taken aback at her statement of faith and power.

[Tell that to the ringworms] Brent said with a frown.

[Brent, listen to Shanalotte, she is more than able to cure any such health issue we might incur through her miracles and magics] Izuku stated, wrapping another cooked bird in the seagrass. [We’ve spent a plenty long time consuming seabirds and other beasts, and though worms are indeed a terrible foe, I'd not be ovr’ concerned.]

Brent stared at them slack jawed as Shanalotte bit into another bird, crunching through the bones of the avian without worry or difficulty. Running a hand over his head, he let out a sigh and climbed back to his feet before approaching Inko to speak more with her for a little. Izuku wondered what he could’ve held within the sizable case slung over his shoulder, it looked big enough to fit a sizable weapon, but was also bulky enough to potentially be a weapon - it appeared to be made primarily of metal.

Finishing her bird, Shanalotte tossed the remains into the fire and tempered it ever so slightly with a wave of her feather. She might’ve lacked the rite of estus and kindling, but her keeping of flames had not been dulled as their other magics. With a pleased sigh, she leaned back and turned towards the pair of Japanese speakers, Brent and Inko, listening to them and reading their expressions as best she could given her lack of understanding of their language. [What do you think they are talking about?] Izuku questioned, breaking her concentration on their conversation. Looking at him, she noted that he’d packed the remaining 7 birds in seagrass, and was similarly relaxing by the fire watching his mother and Brent speak.

[I suppose it is with regards to us] Shanalotte read of the situation, the way Brent moved, the way Inko’s tired eyes and countenance stretched and tightened at moments as Brent spoke on, both her and Izuku’s names slipping from his lips seemingly at random. [It must be something trying to your mother, see how she grows weary?] Shanalotte noted.

[I do not see such things] Izuku blandly replied, his lacking talents for reading people evident, [all I hear is their talking about us, or speaking our names: nothing more.]

Brent looked over towards them for a moment before returning his attention to Inko speaking just a bit more before nodding and walking towards them with a smile. [Well, you two are some high class fools, that’s for certain] he said, shaking his head, [yer also a pair of hooligans and mysteries, ‘specially you Shanalotte.]

[I am?] Shanalotte questioned the accusation of her unknowable nature, though it was Izuku who was more unknowable.

[Sure are, and, speaking of mysteries, why’d ya start a little cooking fire when yer ma’s got a stove top and pans just begging to be used?]

[I saw no such furnace upon which to cook] Izuku defended, [no fire pit either, and it is ill-advised to start your flames close to the sea.]

[It is indeed a terrible thing to place a bonfire on the same level of sea] Shanalotte agreed, wiping some blood from her mouth and chin with her gloved hand, smearing a bit of dirt across her face, revealing for a moment, her mismatched eyes, her left brown and right an iridescent purple. [bonfires should be near to one’s lodge as to aid in ease of use should it not?] Shanalotte proposed.

[Alright, well, i guess you don’t know what a stove is then, huh?] Brent questioned to which Izuku and Shanalotte shook their heads - they had indeed never heard of a stove for cooking. [Right, should’ve known that - why don’t ya kill the fire so we can talk inside?]

Shanalotte frowned, she never liked putting out fires she’d taken ownership of, a byproduct of her being a keeper. Izuku knew this, and held no such difficulties with snuffing out the flame, throwing dirt into the fire, smothering it slowly until it was ready to be stomped out. Shanalotte frowned as Izuku stomped out the fires for only as long as they were being smothered before regaining her neutral expression once the flames had ended. [Inside then?] Izuku questioned of Brent who during the endeavor had been speaking with Inko.

The group migrated indoors, with both Izuku and Shanalotte being sent to the bathroom to clean their feet and hands with the soaps, despite their protests, eventually however, they acquiesced and settled into the main room, their armor removed and set upon a pair of chairs instead of the whole table. When the subject of Shanalotte’s hair, the remaining birds and the seagrass came up, the pair did not hide her going swimming for the collection, nor her talent with bows and arrows to hunt them down. The former apparently concerned Inko, while the latter impressed Brent, who whistled at her marksmanship.

The group, too large to settle at the table with two chairs held up by the armor and equipment of the cut off sweats wearing pair, settled into the sitting area, with the two sitting next to one another on the couch with Inko, Izuku squeezed in the middle. Brent brought out his case and clicked it open revealing the guard and grip of Izuku’s rapier. Sliding the weapon out onto the coffee table, Izuku and Shanalotte noted the strange attachment to the seal between the blade and the sheath, some device of unknown origin which had a strange black pad near the grip. [First things first, here’s yer sword back Izuku, if ya can even call this thing a sword] Brent noted of the weapon, [would’ve appreciated knowing yer sword is naturally superheated to the point where we couldn’t get a new sheath made and just had to equip your’s with a lock.]

[A lock?] Izuku questioned, slightly upset at the implications of his weapon being sealed like his magics, [for what reason would you decide to seal my weapon, it guards myself and Shanalotte from vagrants like that E-Era’sir!]

[Were it not for Izuku’s rapier, our accosting would have gone far differently!] Shanalotte agreed with equal outrage.

[Well, first off, sorry about Eraser, it was his first night out on the town, and the chip on his shoulder’s pretty big still, so, again, sorry ‘bout him] Brent apologize, [about the sword] Brent continued, tapping the weapon, [this thing’s a hunk of illegal support equipment, even if the eggheads don’t know how it works. So, we can’t exactly keep it, something about copyright and patents, but can’t really let ya just walk ‘round with a deadly weapon so - this.] 

[This?] Shanalotte questioned.

[I don’t know what “this” is] Izuku agreed.

[Well, first and foremost, it's a lock, requiring a thumbprint to unlock, and a voice recognition, and a tracking device] Brent explained, to which Izuku and Shanalotte understood nothing about his odd words, that wasn’t all true, they understood that the device was a lock, though they could see no key. [So, once ya learn Japanese, we can key in an unlock for ya and enroll yer thumb or finger or whatever, then you’ll be able to use it, though it’ll make a report of its usage.]

[As in someone would know when I draw my blade?] Izuku questioned to which Brent nodded. [Why would they need to know when I make use of my weapon? It does not belong to them, I owe them nothing!] Izuku barked, understanding this would be placing his power in control of some other person, a fear of the owners of this lock sealing it forever.

[Sorry, but the people in charge don’t like people walking around with dangerous weapons, same reason you two can’t use your quirks anymore] Brent explained before pausing as if in realization, saying something to Inko in Japanese which caused her to gasp and hug Izuku with tears of joy. Izuku quirked a brow at Brent, [forgot to tell her you have a quirk.]

[I do not] Izuku maintained.

[Izuku does not have a quirk] Shanalotte agreed.

[Ya do now, whatever magic ya got, that’s yer quirk] Brent explained.

[Is that so?] Shanalotte questioned, [i too can use magics, does that mean i too have a quirk?]

Brent sighed and rubbed his head, saying something in Japanese under his breath, [let’s drop it, i have some paperwork i need you to sign to release the weapon back to ya, Izuku.]

[Why?]

[Just to have yer word that ya won’t misuse this thing, that’s all] Brent explained, [nothing more, just saying you won’t out and kill people out of nowhere.]

[What of protecting myself and Shanalotte?] Izuku questioned.

[That should be fine enough] Brent agreed, [pretty sure this says you’re still allowed to protect yourself, provided there’s no other choice.]

Shanalotte turned her head at this, [other choices?]

[And that brings me to the other reason for my visit] Brent sighed, pulling out more paperwork, [once Izuku signs that paperwork releasing the sword back to his care, you two have some testing to do.]

[Of what sort?] Izuku asked.

[Education, which I can already tell Missie'll do poorly on, common sense, which I fear for both of ya, and morals, which I doubt you’ll fail that poorly] Brent explained as he offered Izuku a pen to sign. Izuku looked at the pen for a moment before taking it and signing the sword paperwork. [I’m also probably gonna get set up as your tutor.]

[I fail to see why that is necessary] Shanalotte commented to which Brent stared at her blankly.

[You can’t read or write.]

[Is that important?] Shanalotte questioned. Brent, in response nodded, spoke something to Inko in Japanese, who then leaned forward, met her eyes and nodded. [Really?]

[I would ner’ expected this world to require so much literacy] Izuku commented.

[You two’ll also need to learn Japanese] Brent continued.

[Ah that makes sense] Shanalotte agreed.

[It would be difficult to not speak the native language] Izuku concurred. [May we begin?]

[We’re gonna have to do it separately, can’t have you two influencing one another’s responses] Brent explained, [why don’t you shower and clean up while I give the test to Izuku?] Brent offered Shanalotte.

[Why would i need to clean myself?]

[You swam in the sea] Brent explained.

[Yes, and i am still clean.]

[Brent, are you quite well?]

[The sea is dirty, she needs to shower] Brent asserted, saying something to Inko who, once again, made eye contact with Izuku and Shanalotte, nodding solemnly.

* * *

Question: You come across a weapon on the ground, what do you do?

Izuku: Inspect the surrounding for a trap, then pilfer the weapon.   
Shanalotte: Search for traps, then pilfer the weapon.

Question: You find a man injured laying on the ground calling for help, what do you do?

Izuku: Kill him from range then check for traps.   
Shanalotte: Kill him from range, then attempt to bait out his allies.

Question: You find a lost child wandering the city, what do you do?

Izuku: kill the child to put it out of its misery.   
Shanalotte: Put it out of its misery.

Question: You witness a villain attacking a store, what do you do?

Izuku: Wait for this “Villain” to leave, then pilfer the store and corpses   
Shanalotte: Leave them to their business

Question: You are being harassed by a person, what do you do?

Izuku: Kill them   
Shanalotte: Kill them

Question: Is it ever okay to lie to a hero?

Izuku: I owe them nothing, i care not   
Shanalotte: I do not trust them, i would lie if needed

Question: Is it okay to steal food?

Izuku: It isn’t stealing if the owner is dead   
Shanalotte: Why would i need to steal the food? I can hunt. I have to face the owner? I could just eat them. What is cannibalism? I have done so before, yes. Why do you look so taken aback? Is it odd?

Question: What obligations should parents have to their children?

Izuku: To birth and protect them until they can stand on their own   
Shanalotte: Children are created for the parent’s uses. The child should be happy to experience life.

Question: Is it right to ever kill someone? Why or why not?

Izuku: Yes, there are countless reasons to kill your enemies, annoyances, and those who possess something you need.   
Shanalotte: Yes, there are innumerable reasons to kill people. For example, their being foes.

Question: Is it moral to pay your taxes even if you don’t agree with how the government spends it?

Izuku: what are taxes? Ah, no, that sounds of petty theft.   
Shanalotte: what is a government? Oh, the crown? I owe nothing to the crown, they may not take what is mine.

Question: Is torture permissible?

Izuku: No information worth getting is worth torture   
Shanalotte: No, I cannot fathom a need when death is available

Question: Do you believe that you should be allowed to use your quirk freely?

Izuku: I don’t have a quirk. No, Promised Walk of Peace is not a quirk. Brent, it is not a quirk! It is not!   
Shanalotte: I don’t have a quirk. That’s just part of who I am. Would you not use your eyes if you were asked? It is the same.

Question: Your best friend is accused of a crime, what do you do?

Izuku: I would protect Shanalotte with my life.   
Shanalotte: I would protect Izuku with my life. Why are you smiling Brent?

Question: Two people are in a fight, how do you respond?

Izuku: Watch them fight, if either attacks me, kill them.   
Shanalotte: Kill the stronger of the two.

Question: Would you take candy from a baby?

Izuku: Yes, who gives candy to a baby? It is a waste.   
Shanalotte: Yes, I want the candy.

Question: What is 2+2?

Izuku: 4   
Shanalotte: 4?

Question: What is the integral of the following equation

Izuku: Child's play   
Shanalotte: I do not know

Question: What is the powerhouse of the cell?

Izuku: What is a cell? What?   
Shanalotte: I do not know

Question: At what speed would a ball need to travel, if launched from a height, to travel a certain distance?

Izuku: Assuming standard gravity…   
Shanalotte: around, 18. 18 fasts? What is a kilometer? 

* * *

Brent, Inko, Izuku, and Shanalotte stared at the packet containing the results of the morals interview, the academics interview, and the cultural interview. Izuku and Shanalotte could tell from the few questions and comments Brent had made during the whole process that they had not done overly well, completely failing the whole of the Japanese section for absolute certainty. Brent and Inko were certain that Izuku and Shanalotte had failed the morals and cultural interviews in spectacular fashion, not even to speak on the utter failings of their academics. Both parties however, were unwilling to open the packet which would seal their fates, ensure their being placed into special classes with whichever school they were in the district for, and for Shanalotte, it would absolutely mean her needing a private tutor. Just as well for her since she was woefully undereducated compared to Izuku.

[Well, best to just rip the bandaid off I guess] Brent finally said, breaking the silence, reaching forward to grab the packet he’d brought in the first place, untying the twine to open the package. Two thick packets of paper were pulled from the package, both labeled with high quality paper the names “Izuku Midoriya” and “Shanalotte Midoriya.” Due to a hiccup with the system, Shanalotte had legally become a Midoriya, though it was worth noting a difference in Kanji.

Whereas the “Midoriya” of Izuku and Inko was the combination of the Kanji for Green and Valley, the “Midoriya” of Shanalotte read as Green and Arrow. Brent was relieved the find that the two had not been given the same last name so early in life, even if they were dating, it would be, awkward for people outside of the situation to understand why a suspected brother and sister would date - even if they looked nothing alike, the same last name might raise odd questions.

Brent cracked open the one for Izuku first, reading his scores, and finding how horrendous he had done. Reading the first part of the report, he frowned at the harsh condemnation of Izuku’s lacking morals, lack of common sense, and lopsided education. He read on as the placements for academics placed him simultaneously as a college level student in math, physics, and English, while the rest of his academics were on par with 5 year olds. It was so incredibly odd, that the person who wrote the report on him actually wrote a complete page worth of notes to discuss the sort of person they expected Izuku to be, which, while completely inaccurate and pointless to read, was somewhat humorous in the otherwise dry report.

[Izuku, on the morals test you scored a 1 outta 50. I don’t know how, but according to this, you’re supposed to be a villain] Brent read out to the captive audience.

[What? I don’t understand, what is wrong with my morals?]

[Nothing that can’t be fixed, for example, not jumping to killing people and stealing from them] Brent explained, [I don’t even have to look at your report to know you probably scored as poorly, Shanalotte] Brent explained to the girl who was sitting next to Izuku. [Seriously, who the hell takes candy from a baby?]


	3. Chapter 3

The door shut as Izuku and Shanalotte, the odd girl her son had returned with, left the house to be outside for whatever reason, the language barrier keeping Inko in the dark about her son’s goings-on.

‘What am i going to do?’ Inko thought as she allowed herself to collapse onto the couch which had served as Shanalotte’s temporary bed for the past two nights, her mind reeling from the bombshell of a report about her son. Picking up the documents with a degree of lethargy and disgust at the paperwork which more or less condemned her son, she had not even finished reading the report and could feel there was worse merely by the sad look in Snipe, or Brent’s (as he preferred to be called when not wearing his mask) eyes as he read Shanalotte’s report. ‘Whatever we’ve covered with Izuuk must have just been the tip of the iceberg’ Inko silently considered as she watched the unmasked hero pull yet more documents from a briefcase, ‘oh please, no more’ she silently prayed to whatever power brought her son back - lord knows it wasn’t a power she knew.

Tense, silent moments passed as the unease Inko was feeling dissipated slightly, turning her attention back to Izuku’s report, namely the notes written in the margins, scrawled in shorthanded Japanese as though the author had more to say than could be entered officially. None of the report was good from any sort of view point, with the notes on the side only cementing the opinion of the author. It was difficult to read, trying on her heart and soul as the writer of the report went over the top with reiterating how her son should not be allowed to enter normal society given his “corrupted to the core” being. It was slanderous, foul, and cruel for someone to write such things about her son, even if she couldn’t outright deny all of it. She hadn’t sat in on the interviews Brent, and she wouldn’t have been able to understand it anyhow given it was all in English, but the things they were saying about Izuku, her baby boy, were too horrid to possibly be true. Things like how her son was incompatible with civilized society, that he held more in common with some of the worst villains, true psychopaths. ‘If the commission, or whoever wrote this report thinks Izuku is this much of a danger, then why didn’t they come and take him, or come in person, or something other than insult him in this stupid report?’ Inko considered; her grip on the report tightening until the crinkling of the paper broke her concentration on the foul report. Her teeth clenched in anger as the author of the report reiterated how unlikely Izuku was to integrate into society, how he’d be better off in a detention facility for years, how leaving him on the streets was dangerous.

Inko’s attention was brought out of her own mind as Brent cleared his throat, “that is part of the reason why I’m here Mrs. Midoriya, the Commission isn’t exactly comfortable with someone like Izuku running loose, and given the test, and well, um, I can assure you that nuance isn’t exactly the Commission’s strong suit. Right, where was I? Ah yeah, Izuku’s lack of restraint and Area of Effect quirk is a major red flag in the Commission’s eyes so-”

“Ah, I was thinking out loud again” Inko said with disdain for herself for falling back into an old habit she’d long grown out of and an equal amount for him apparently being there to restrain Izuku. “Okay, I suppose i understand where they are coming from, though i absolutely disagree with them. There is no way my sweet little Izuku could possibly have become a villain, I refuse to believe it. The Commission just wants to lock him up, throw away the key and watch him because he’s different, because he scares them for no reason.” Inko looked towards the window where her son was… doing something, “speaking of no reason, the Commission using the _unprovoked_ attack of that hero and you as further reason to lock him up, despite you, yourself saying in your report that all of his actions were justified.” Inko recalled, his brief explanation, only infuriating at the two-faced nature of the Commission, the injustice, the solitude, the stares, the stress of the last decade which had piled up was all starting to boil over.

“Well, but the test results and Commission-”

Her tired, old, false calm finally began to crack as Brent attempted to placate her, busting the dam, “NO BUTTS!” Inko screamed, tearing the report in her hands asunder, the small fragments of the report floating briefly before forming wads of paper in her hands, the nicknacks and baubles sitting around the room began to shake a bit as her anger flared. “He has been gone, GONE! For a damned decade, a LITERAL DECADE! He’s been missing, taken by villains, and I have searched, Lord knows I have looked for him endlessly, for anything, I SEARCHED FOR HIS CORPSE!” Inko cried, “crawled through the wreckage, the broken, destroyed aftermath looking for anything, anything that could give me some closure; I found nothing, _nothing_! Did I stop? Did I give up? No, I did not, not once, I wanted too, oh did I want to give in, but I couldn't do that for my little Izuku, I could give up on him. You know who did give up? Who gave up on all of us? The Government, the Commission, the people you’re asking me to trust gave up on my son not even a week after the end of the battle, while I was still stuck in the hospital with his best friend, my godson. We didn’t give up though no, we, along with so many others kept our hope, crawled through the debris, searching for anything. That lasted all of three weeks until they all gave up. Just three weeks. Everyone gave up, gave up and moved on with their lives. And then? The deaths started...” Inko shuddered, trailing off just a bit, “the survivors, all of us, we just started dying, always the same way, some cancerous thing driving them to tears, madness, they… My godson and I are the last two members of that group. All this time, we’ve lived thinking we’re going to die any day after suddenly going insane. I almost gave in, accepted despair that i’d never see Izuku again, that i was going to die before i saw him - only almost. I didn’t, I didn’t give up, Katsuki didn’t give up, we’re all that's left, both of us spent the last ten years praying for Izuku to come home, to not be dead.” Inko continued, tears streaming down her cheeks, as her balled fists slammed into the table, throwing the torn up report around, curling in on herself. “We never gave up on him, never accepted he was dead, a-and now?” Inko asked aloud, “he comes ba-ck, I can barely recognize my own son, i can’t talk to him, he has a girlfriend, neither of them seems to have any sort of common sense, no modesty, covered head to toe in filth, dirt, grease, and dried blood, but also scars!” Inko raged as the brief memory of the dark scars on Izuku’s body flashed to the forefront of her mind. “He was stuck, in some backwards, dangerous world, constantly being attacked, so what else to make is all the better but this damned government, who told me to give up, called him dead, a lost cause, to make up some stupid test deciding that he’s no better than the GOD DAMNED MONSTERS THAT STOLE HIM!” Inko screamed, punching the coffee table which creaked under the force of the impact.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Inko squeezed them shut as a headache began to set in, breathing in and out slowly, following the exercises from the counselor who she’d stopped attending years ago. “There is absolutely, no way I am letting anyone take him from me, no way in hell” Inko finished with an ounce of composure returning as she succeeded in quelling her anger for the moment.

“Mrs. Midoriya,” Brent offered solemnly, looking her dead in the eyes with a degree of calmness she expected of a hero, “I’m not gonna take Izuku away from you.” Inko lowered her shoulders slightly as she listened on to his words. “I wasn’t planning on taking Izuku, I was asked to give you two options.”

“Let me guess, either prison or putting him in some damned home?” Inko offered in a not-so dry huff, sniffling back some snot which had come loose in her outburst.

“Sadly, you aren’t completely off base with that” Brent admitted, looking a bit ashamed, “the Commission’s ideal would for him and Shanalotte to become wards of the state, and before you get started, listen to the other offer!” Brent rushed out as Inko opened her mouth to yell at him, cutting her off before she could get started. “The other offer is to have them retake the test before the next school year starts up, get them enrolled and pushed back into society.” Brent shuffled some of his papers around before offering a packet to Inko, who took it with some hesitance. Reading over the document, Inko could feel herself on the border of glazing over at the dry and confusing language of the legally binding document until she reached the section which Brent had suggested. “I’m not the type of person to just let a pair of kids flounder either, so I could teach them, maybe help get some aid or something since they both seem to have pretty strong quirks. Izuku was pretty much completely dominant over Eraserhead, a rookie who is expected to do very well with his work, and the little miss half dragon made it sound like she could do the same, two people having the same quirk isn’t the norm, but nothing about this is normal. Point is, the Commission is in a bit of a tizzy about these two and are willing to wiggle on the bureaucracy a bit to secure them.”

Inko read on through the report until she reached what would befall her son if he strayed from this carefully created path, not paying attention to some of the conditions, but to all of the restrictions and consequences. He’d be forced to walk a narrow line, one where falling would place him in state custody until he became an adult. It was the only way. The only way she could keep Izuku, spend time with her son, even if it had been a decade, she was still his mother, and she didn’t want to let him go again. “Okay.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said,” Inko said a bit stronger, putting down the documents and laying backwards in her seat, “okay” she repeated breathlessly, exhausted and daunted at the task of teaching her son how to be normal in under six months, just before the placement exams would start up for high schoolers. “I don’t have much time, do I?” 

“No, we really don’t have a lot of time.”

“We?”

“Mrs. Midoirya, you didn’t read all of the conditions for this did you? Not that any of this is signed and binding yet, nor that I blame you, I think I’d do the same.” Brent said with a calm voice, “part of this contract will have me taking up partial guardianship of Izuku until he is deemed no longer a threat or reaches adulthood.” Brent explained.

“Oh” Inko sighed, “is there a reason?”

“Think of it as sponsoring a foreign exchange student, a host family, or in the case of hero exchange students, a hero sponsor. The Commission thinks Izuku and Shanalotte are both dangerous enough to warrant a hero being one of their legal guardians, none of this is exactly standard, more like a weird mix of villain rehabilitation and an exchange student situation. Given I’m one of the few heroes whose first language is English, I think I’m a decent fit for them.”

“How is that all going to work, because I’m really not comfortable with you taking him from me.”

“Like I said, I’ll see if I can’t get some aid to move over here so I don’t gotta split you and Izuku up.”

Another headache began to explode through Inko’s head, just as the last one was tapering off, “he just has to pass right? Then he’ll get to live a mostly normal life?” Inko asked, eyes closed and head leaned back in pain.

“Y-yeah, more or less.”

“You hesitated there, what else are they going to demand of my Izuku?”

Brent let out a tense breath, “both he and Shanalotte are going to have to attend a… different, sort of quirk evaluation.”

“Different how?”

“Well, most quirk evaluations are done on kids, so, there’s a, uh, protocol for quirk evaluations on adults - it’s mostly used with villains.”

“They won’t hurt him right?”

“‘Course not Mrs. Midoriya!” Brent exclaimed, “you just won't be allowed to tag along, for security reasons.”

Inko let out a sigh of relief, “Oh, is that all? I was worried it would be something awful.” Inko brought her hands to her temples, rubbing circles into them. “You shouldn’t scare me like that, I already have enough wrinkles and grey hairs.”

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Brent apologized as the mood turned a bit lighter, “there’s still the issue of Shanalotte, she seems real close to Izuku, and, if their test answers are anything to go by, I think you might end up having her stick around a while longer.”

“Are you asking me to adopt her?”

“More like, become her guardian since I doubt it’ll do us any good to separate them - survivors of traumatic events tend to heal better together rather than alone, plus, doubt she’d be much for conversation with anyone else.” Brent said with an easy tone, “I’ll also be her legal guardian, but because of some old ruling or something, they prefer orphans to be placed into traditional family units, or, well, they want two parents at least, so, yeah, I guess I am asking you to adopt her to make this a bit easier. Sorry if that’s a bit pushy Mrs. Midoriya.”

“Sure,” Inko agreed offhandedly, at best she could enjoy having another girl in the house, Katsuki was always nice to see, but she’d appreciate some more girls, and then maybe she could teach the girl some modesty. “So when is this quirk evaluation going to happen?”

“Well, like I said earlier, the Commission is waving a lot of the usual paperwork to get them sorted, so tomorrow at the Dathomir testing facility they’re both slated for testing, or, to be more accurate, there are two openings specifically made for them.” Brent explained, “I kinda doubt they have any support equipment to register, so that should be just about everything. Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, they don’t really have anything else to wear do they?”

Inko groaned as she opened her eyes, the midmorning sun hitting her eyes and intensifying the pain of her headache, “oh bother, they don’t have anything else to wear. They just have the sweats I altered to fit them, and Izuku at the very least is extremely protective of what he was wearing, I don’t think Shana would like me washing her clothes either.” Inko finished leaning forward, picking up the pen Brent had placed next to the documents which would let Izuku stay, “sign where the flags are?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Brent replied professionally, “Do you know their sizes?”

“I could guess, for Shana almost certainly, I don’t know boys sizes as well.” Inko finished continuing to sign the paperwork with a palpable disinterest - government forms, something she’d dealt with for the last ten years. 

“That’ll have to work. Here’s my number” Brent offered, sliding a business card into Inko’s sight, “send me some sizes and I’ll take care of it.” Inko nodded at the offer, continuing to sign the forms which seemed to drag on and on without end.

“My number is XXX-XXX-XXXX” Inko responded, flipping over the page, coming to the end and signing and dating her final signature on the lengthy document, finishing with a sigh, Inko leaned back, still nursing the painful headache.

“Are you feeling alright Mrs. Midoriya?” Brent questioned as he collected the documents and began to look over them.

“I think i am going to make myself some tea, would you like some Brent?” Inko offered, leaning forward and getting up to her feet, the audible pops of stiff joints releasing the built up tension in Inko’s body as the gruesome paperwork was finished, her son ensured to not be stolen again.

“Yes, I’d love some sweet tea if you don’t mind Mrs. Midoriya.”

Inko sighed as she finished standing up, “we’re going to be seeing a lot of one another for the next few months? Years? Might as well rip off the bandage and start calling me by my first name Brent.” Inko said with lighter shoulders, giving him permission to be a bit less formal with her was just another load off her back. Turning on the heel of her feet, Inko walked towards the kitchen, pausing near the window to find Izuku and Shanalotte - ‘Another fire?’ Inko observed with a tired expression. The girl seemed to be completely enamored with flames, beyond the norm. Inko sighed as she calmed herself, watching over her son and his girlfriend relaxing by the flames, Izuku writing on some sort of scroll with his old fashioned writing tools. ‘Maybe we could bond over calligraphy?’ Inko considered as she finished her trek to the kitchen - it had been many years since she’d last picked up a brush to write calligraphy, maybe Izuku would also take a liking to it.

Inko cracked open the tea cabinet, digging through until she came across the leaves for her preferred headache relief remedy, a green tea, chamomile, ginger root mix, pulling out the container and bringing it over to her electric tea pot, setting about brewing the beverage. Setting the jar on the countertop, she took hold of the kettle and began to fill it with water before returning the device back to the base flipping the switch and setting the desired temperature and setting, giving it time to warm while she fumbled with the leaves. Placing the leaves in the steeping portion of the teapot, Inko next set about gathering a pair of mugs for herself and her guest, who she would become far more familiar with in the coming… however long. Idly, she pondered on how Americans made their tea in comparison to her, she knew that she tended to do some things a bit more old fashioned, such as preparing the mixes for her tea personally, but she didn’t know if the Americans had some unique preferences to their own tea. ‘Would there be too much of a difference? It is decently hard to mix up making tea, though over-steeping and burning leaves are very common faux paus…’ Inko was broken from the tangent by the sound of the electric tea pot sounding a finished chime. Transferring the pot to a tray with the two mugs, sugar, and some tea biscuits she’d picked up from the store a while ago, Inko returned to the hero looking over documents in her living room with a tired smile set upon his face.

“Ah, thank you Inko, much appreciated” Brent thanked as Inko poured him a mug of tea followed by one for herself.

“I hope the biscuits aren’t stale or anything like that, I rarely have company, apart from my godson, who stops by less and less often, it’s mostly just the housekeeper and case worker.” Inko apologized, realizing the biscuits might have indeed gone stale in the time between buying them and serving them.

Brent waved his hand dismissing the worry which dwelt on Inko’s mind for only a few sparse seconds, “It’s fine Inko, thank you again” Brent spoke with pleasure taking a sip from the tea and appearing to burn his mouth just a little, setting the cup back down. “You know, Izuku is something else.”

“In what way?” Inko asked, an ounce of concern sneaking its way into her voice.

“He’s an absolute catastrophe when it comes to, well, basically anything you’d expect a middle school student to know, common sense, Japanese, literature, that sorta thing, but then you get to his mathematics and science scores? He punches way above his weight class.”

“Excuse me?”

“Izuku’s real smart about math and science, sure his science knowledge is a bit, outdated, but he has a strong basis down which would put most, college historians to shame, then we get to math and, well, I’m pretty sure the best word for it would be something like a savant, could probably become one of the world’s leading mathematicians if he put his mind to it.” Brent explained, casually adding more and more sugar to his cup of tea, “though I don’t see him doing that frankly.”

Inko hummed a note of discontentment, “before he disappeared, he was nothing like that, like this” Inko corrected herself, “he was so much more focused on getting a quirk, never wanted to do his homework, had no interest in anything school had to offer - he’s changed so much.”

“He still knew to call you ‘Mom’” Brent supplied, “he still knew you were his mother, just ‘cause he’s changed doesn’t mean he isn’t your son.”

“I-I wasn’t implying that” Inko retorted, “it’s just a change I never would have expected to see in him. Whenever I think of him, it’s of my little boy, waving his arms around on my bed, his father’s coat tied around his neck trying to make something happen, shouting all sorts of commands at the room - his father could manipulate shadows, i can draw things towards me, he wanted to be a little hero.” Inko frowned as she finished recounting the tale, “I expect him to, just, do something like that, wave his hands around and try to move things with his quirk.”

“And now he has a quirk which makes it impossible for people to be hostile towards him if they wanna still be moving, weird case of quirk mutation huh?” Brent quipped.

“Is that what his quirk does?” Inko questioned, “you only told me it was called Promised Walk of Peace, I fail to see how that translates.”

“That’s what he calls it, though he also calls it a miracle, not a quirk - doesn’t even think he or Shanalotte have quirks.”

“Shanalotte definitely does, at the very least she has a mutant quirk.”

“Izuku says it’s just part of who she is, really quite tolerant whatever villains raised him.” Brent finished with a dry laugh, “I did some looking into where he said he was by the by - complete nonsense.”

Inko frowned, both at the insensitive joke, and also at the lack of information regarding the monsters who stole Izuku, she was about to speak when something caught her and Brent’s attention in the window. Izuku was standing, the scroll held between his hands a ring of flames suddenly erupting from the parchment, spinning and twirling, eating the fire from Shanalotte’s little fire and growing. Inko and Brent raced outside as the ring grew further, spinning and flashing with colors forming into a sphere of flame. “I thought he could stop people who wanted to hurt him!” Inko yelled at Brent, “RIGHT?”

The look in Brent’s eyes told her everything she needed to hear as she ran towards Izuku only to be stopped by Shanalotte, holding her back like a barrier. Inko stared in awe at the flame her son observed with a blissful negligence of care as it grew to a small star before tremors began to shake through the creation. Wobbles and wiggles in the spinning ring breaking the illusion of a sphere as it grew rapidly, contracting nearly instantly before exploding outwards, throwing all members backwards in the blast. “IZUKU!” Inko screamed, scrambling back to her feet and rushing towards her son who was laid out on the ground near the patch of burnt grass. Izuku sat up as she approached, a frown on his face as though he was dissatisfied with whatever he had just been doing. 

Burns

Dozens of fresh burns covered his body, horrifying Inko as she carefully reached out to him, “Brent! Call and ambulance! He’s injured!” Brent immediately pulled out his phone as he jogged over, speaking to Izuku in English while Shanalotte stood over them, chanting over her feather.

“Okay the operator needs-” Brent was cut off as a wave of warmth washed over their bodies, as if honey colored light poured over them like water, closing Izuku’s wounds and leaving behind nothing, no scar, no trace of injuries. “Uh, no, sorry, false alarm, I know, I know” Brent said uneasily into his phone, eyes just as wide as Inko’s own.

“I thought Shanalotte was just a mutant, Brent, I need an explanation.” Inko requested of the person who could actually speak with her son.

“Yeah, working on it” Brent replied as he began to speak with Izuku and Shanalotte both, Inko deciding to step back from her no longer injured son, her heart racing as she collapsed onto one of the chairs on her patio. Her mind reeled as she tried to comprehend what exactly had just occurred. Izuku was supposed to stop people from moving if they wanted to hurt him, not manipulate fire. Shanalotte was supposed to be a half-dragon mutant, not some sort of healer. Izuku had been heavily injured, but all of the sudden, he wasn’t.

 _“Around a bonfire, he was wounded, I offered aid to him. He was injured, a common thing”_ That was how Shanalotte supposedly met Izuku if the translation was correct, if Shanalotte was telling the truth. It cemented in Inko’s mind two things about her son and his girlfriend. Izuku was reckless, and Shanalotte was very good to have around - especially if he was going to injure himself more and more…

A wave of light-headedness overcame Inko as she continued to calm down, watching as Brent became increasingly animated and exasperated in his conversation with Izuku and Shanalotte. The light-headedness progressed just a bit as Brent slapped his face before yelling at Izuku, finally waving her son off and walking over to her. “Well, Izuku said that it was _just_ him failing a flame sorcery, which makes no sense. Shanalotte healed him, _somehow_ , they both started talking in terms I don’t understand and honestly think they might know a few other languages, so I'm pretty lost. “ Brent complained falling into a chair next to Inko, apparently equally exhausted by the rush of excitement, “remind me to never become a dad, okay Ink?”

“Huh?” Inko hummed through a sudden yawn and loss of energy in her body as though she was a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“I should probably take the paper work over to the local office, if you text me the sizes I can get some replacement clothes delivered pretty quickly.” Brent offered getting up and offering Inko a hand, which she took, rising to her feet. A sudden headrush struck her, sending a wave of wobbles through the woman. Reaching out with her quirk, Inko firmly grasped on a pole, stopping her fall as her breathing quickened. “Inko, are you okay?” Brent asked, concern coloring his words.

“Yes, just a bit light-headed is all” Inko replied honestly, “would you mind helping me inside, I think I need to lay down for a little while.”

“No problem Inko,” Brent agreed, taking her by the arm and leading her inside. Looking at the pole, Inko found it to be the strange staff Izuku had brought with him from the police station. A heavy metal rod with a strange planetary model affixed to the top of the staff. The grip of the rod was slightly sticky, as though the thing had never been well cleaned, which did not surprise Inko one bit given the woeful state of the chimes Izuku also cherished which had become heavily oxidized as though he’d never bothered to clean them. Idly picking at the staff in her hand, she found it flaking off particles of dirt and grime, another reminder of the terrible place Izuku had been taken to, somewhere dirty, somewhere dangerous.

Brent led Inko into her bedroom and helped her down onto her bed, “would you ask Izuku and Shana to stay inside until I get up? I don’t want them to get into any trouble while I’m resting.”

“Sure thing, though I fear for anyone who gets into trouble with those two, they seem full of tricks” Brent chuckled calmly, handing Inko her cellphone, “If ya don’t mind, i would like to know what sorta clothes i should order for them.”

Inko took the phone gingerly, responding to a text from Brent without saving his name to her contacts, sending the sizes she thought would fit Izuku and Shanalotte before setting an alarm for an hour. “Alright, sizes sent, alarm set - i’m going to rest now. Thank you for helping like this, Brent, I appreciate it.”

“Don’t worry about it Ink, it’s part of being a hero after all.”

Inko nodded to the helpful hero as he vacated the room, giving her privacy to rest her head and heart just a bit. Laying on the bed, Inko closed her eyes letting out a yawn as she set her phone down on the night table. This morning alone had exhausted her thoroughly, reading the report had broken her heart, seeing her baby boy literally explode in fire had scared her half to death, a near fainting spell, and now she could barely keep herself upright. Between that and the worsening of her headaches, her nerves were shot, she needed this rest. ‘Just a little rest is all’ Inko thought to herself as she began to drift off to a world of slumber.

The dreams in which Inko finds herself are of memories, twisted by grief, nightmares of the past, specters of those lost to the odd disease all of the survivors have, all two of them. She walks through these memories, through a blackened haze filled with figures whose outlines are shaded in the same grey-black colors as those bountiful sprites which followed the hand of the creature which stole Izuku a decade before. They whisper to her, tell her secrets of grief she’s forgotten, suppressed, accepted, whatever words she uses to lie to herself about coming to terms with the pain of having lost Izuku.

This is the normal for her when it comes to nightmares, though today, those lies are replaced, secrets are never told, in their place, truths and honest joys flow from the warm softness of the black sprites which almost rejoice in the return of Izuku. The manifestations of her fury, of her anger turned manifestations of joy, or otherwise twisted themselves with the resolution and closure of her long held pain, long held worry.

_Those who seek will return_

Words never spoken to Inko come to the forefront of her mind, utterances of apologies and necessities dwell in her thoughts. Whimpering words worming their way within the wandering mind of a woman whose world had been wrecked by the woeful workers of villainy.

“Mom.”

Inko let out a groan as she rolled over in her bed, stretching and yawning before finally opening her eyes to look at the speaker. Izuku and Shanalotte were standing over her bed, staring at her like a pair of prairie dogs, curious and still. In her haze, Inko couldn’t exactly understand what they were doing in her room. It was decently dark in the bedroom, no outstanding noises, they both seemed healthy, no obvious injuries, so Inko’s confusion was only further added as Shanalotte said something in English, pointing to the phone. Pushing herself up in bed, Inko leaned over and grabbed her phone, unlocking it and revealing her alarm had gone off nearly three hours ago. Inko got up from her bed, and switched over to the translation app, offering the end to Shanalotte who spoke once more.

“Brent said we were to wait for you to awaken before we could go outside once more, we cannot hunt from within this house, may we go retrieve some food? I am hungry.” The app translated for Shanalotte. Inko let out a sigh of relief for some worry she was holding, looking up at the two and almost nodding at them.

‘If I just nod to them, they’d go out and kill seagulls again, wouldn’t they?’ Inko questioned remembering the struggle she had this morning with simply getting the two some eggs to eat. Bringing the phone to her mouth, Inko responded the correct way to Shanalotte’s question. “I’ll get started on dinner Shana. Izuku, are you hungry too?”

Izuku simply nodded, his face a perfect mask, completely vacant, it had been around eight hours since she’d made them breakfast, so they both must have been decently hungry. Getting up from the bed and shaking the sleep from her body, Inko smiled at the two teens before making her way out of the bedroom, the popping of her joints heading towards the kitchen to get started with dinner. She would need to go grocery shopping tomorrow if she wanted to not run out of food by the end of the week, Izuku wasn’t a big eater, but Shanalotte certainly was, she was viscous and a seemingly bottomless hole. ‘Maybe it has to do with her mutation?’ Inko considered as she began getting out the rice cooker, a pan, and some plates - she was planning on making Katsudon. ‘I hope he still likes it’ Inko thought sadly of her estranged son’s once favorite food.

Food prep was the most extensive part of the process, it had been a long time since having more than one mouth to feed and she was still adjusting to the extra bit of food she needed to make up to serve for her son and his girlfriend. Working through the pork, she frowned as she realized that there was a distinct lack of food, or at least, enough of a lack that pulling out the fish from a few nights ago suddenly became a good idea.

Inko was disrupted from her business in the kitchen by the sound of Izuku and Shanalotte speaking to one another, looking over at her son holding a hand to his head for a moment before smiling as he continued to speak. It still felt pretty unreal, he was home, after a decade, she had Izuku back home. Plenty had changed of course, but he was home at the very least and that made her a bit more happy. Checking her phone as she finished setting the rice cooker, Inko noted a missed text from an unknown number she realized belonged to Brent, saving it to her phone, adding the rest of his information from his business card while she was at it. 

Brent: Hey Inko, I bought some clothes for Izuku and Shanalotte, I can swing by and drop them off now if that is fine with you.  
Inko: Yes, that will be fine with me, why don’t you stay for dinner?  
Brent: Do you need me to pick anything before I come over? I’m just walking by a supermarket now.  
Inko: I wouldn’t want to impose.  
Brent: I insist! You’re cooking, it is the least I could do!

Inko smiled at her phone before punching in a request for an extra serving or two of pork cutlets for the Katsudon as well as a few nice garnishes. Setting down her phone and looking over at Izuku and Shanalotte, who were no longer just sitting on the couch. It looked a fair bit more like Shanalotte had climbed atop Izuku and was…

She was just napping, pressing her whole body into Izuku and putting herself in a very compromising position, but she was just napping. Just. Napping.

* * *

Brent was pretty happy with this latest development in his assumed guardianship of the two kids who’d quite literally appeared out of nowhere. He, from the moment he found out that one had been kidnaped for the last decade and the other might as well have been from another world, knew that he was going to be taking responsibility for the pair; they were both completely lost in Japan, kind of like he was when he first started his career in Japan, only, around a dozen times worse. He knew Japanese when he got to Japan, he also had a modicum of common sense, something those two completely lacked. His reason for being particularly happy was because Izuku’s mother, Inko Midoriya, wasn’t backing down from the challenge of helping two lost, confused, kids to get back on the right track - that, to Brent, was damn heroic. She might’ve been on a bit of a clock given the weird disease she apparently had, but damn it, she was still going at it like the best of them, for that, she had his respect.

Getting a home cooked meal every once in a while was also a damn nice bonus.

Walking up to the door of the Midoriya abode, Brent set down the bag full of clothes he’d picked up for the two kids and knocked on the door, not seeing a doorbell. Shanalotte opened the door a few seconds later, her eyes instantly narrowing in on the groceries in his hand, as though she could smell the meat. ‘She is a mutant, so that is entirely possible I guess’ Brent considered, smiling at the girl.

[I heard you coming, what meat are you hiding in that bag Brent?] Shanalotte questioned, pointing a gloved finger at the grocery bag, [is it dowry for Izuku’s mother?] Brent was taken aback by Shanalotte’s question; firstly, he was surprised she’d heard of dowry, second, he was confused why she assumed that he’d be bringing it for Inko.

[Shanalotte, dowry is brought by the bride, not the suitor] Izuku called from the dinner table where he appeared to be working on another scroll. Brent was glad Izuku was there to correct her brash assumption, though not enough to overlook the assumption that he was a suitor. [I believe my mother was awaiting your arrival so as to finish her dinner preparations - you’ll find her in the kitchen Brent.]

[We’re gonna have to talk about boundaries you two] Brent sighed, picking up and offering the clothing bag to Shanalotte, [I bought you and Izuku some clothes, why don’t you go try them on?] Brent offered with a weaker smile. Shanalotte took the bag from Brent and immediately began looking through the clothes held therein. He’d only bought a few days worth of clothes for the pair, mostly some more durable, heavy duty stuff since they both seemed the type to be pretty rough on their clothes. [Some of it is for Izuku, so make sure you don’t take his clothes.]

[I understand, I shall finish the delivery before trying on these clothes. Thank you for the gift Brent.] Shanalotte thanked, turning around, the sound of her clawed feet scraping against the wood as she walked towards Izuku, bag in hand.

[And just for future reference Izuku, I’m not a suitor] Brent called to the green haired boy who looked up and stared at him for a few moments with his dull green eyes. [I am not] Brent maintained at the vacant stare which seemed to be questioning him, it was almost unnerving how motionless Izuku was as he continued to stare.

[I believe you are unnerving Brent, Izuku] Shanalotte pointed out offering him the bag of clothes, [he has bought us clothing to replace these rags.]

[Thank you Brent] Izuku said, nodding and breaking off his eerie stare, turning to Shanalotte.

Brent shook his head as the two began to rifle through the clothes, walking towards the kitchen, Brent announced himself to the owner of the home, “hey Inko, I brought the pork cutlets you asked for” rounding the corner into the kitchen, Brent smiled offering the bag of groceries to the mother. Inko turned around, looking a fair bit less pale than she had when he helped her into bed earlier, a smile on her face.

“Thank you again for getting extra pork cutlets, dinner will be ready in about ten minutes” Inko thanked with a small bow, accepting the pork cutlets and placing them on the counter next to the rest of the already breaded cutlets. “Did it look like Izuku and Shana liked the clothes? What sort of clothing did you buy for them anyhow?”

“I just bought some basics, mostly pretty heavy duty stuff. I got Izuku some jeans, overalls for Shanalotte, shirts, some long sleeves, mostly utilitarian stuff - had to buy it within some guidelines offered by the government for this sort of thing.”

“You didn’t buy them yourself?”

“I didn’t pay for them if that is what you are asking, figured if I was gonna try to play dress-up with them, they should be present - also don’t really know what Shanalotte and Izuku would want to wear.” Brent admitted, “I don’t have sisters to help me figure this sorta stuff out” flashing an awkward smile at the good natured Inko.

“Well, I can understand that, at least they won’t just be choosing between those disgusting clothes they arrived in and the sweats” Inko said with a contented look on her face, “would you mind setting the table and getting Izuku and Shana’s hands washed?”

“Sure thing” Brent agreed, turning for a half second “where are the dishes?”

Inko gestured to a drawer, “I’ll handle the dishes, just put out some utensils. Izuku and Shana can’t use chopsticks, so be sure to give them forks, spoons and knives, and extra napkins” Inko commanded as she placed a cutlet into a pan of oil, instantly sizzling.

“I should’ve figured they’d have no clue how to work a set of chopsticks, also, why do you keep calling her Shana?”

“It’s hard to say her full name” Inko replied, not turning to face him, obviously embarrassed. Brent smiled at the earnest opening the drawer and pulling out some utensils and napkins, turning back towards the table where Izuku was struggling to work a simple hoodie with the help of Shanalotte. The latter of which had already changed into a pair of overalls with a long sleeve shirt, which confused Brent as he had not seen her walk into the bathroom or leave the table even.

[Do you need some help?] Brent offered setting down the combination of chopsticks, and silverware on the table, before setting about explaining how a zipper functions. He was just a bit exasperated by their combined inability to figure out something pretty simple by his estimate. [So, you mind trying to explain one more time how exactly you did that fire stuff when your quirk is Promised Walk of Peace?]

[As I said before, twas merely a failing in the application of a miracle in attempt to bond the flames of the first flame made manifest within the bonfire born of reagents created from the primordial flames and bone of undead molded by the dark of humanity with the tale of countless priest and countesses of Thorolund as they passed over the long mountains surrounding Lordran only to be overcome by the terror of the darksign and eroding their memories to that of pure bonfires, those of which have shattered fragments of the Lordvessel placed within their burning core after the original was consumed by a profaned flame only to be consumed by the very lord which next linked the flame allowing for the warping and meshing of the very fabric of the world between the convoluted floes of time. By reconceptualizing the topological effects of the miracle’s tale into a matrix, I was then able to transcribe the tale into flames brought forth by the imbued flames of the bonfire brought about by a keeper in order to attempt to restructure the tale to function within the medium of flames such that a safe passage might be attempted permitting travel hither and thither regarding the near and far fires. Simplicity itself Brent]

[How did you even say all of that without taking a breath?] Brent questioned, not even wanting to poke the confusing mess of words which seemed to just be spoken in any order Izuku wanted. [Forget I asked] Brent requested as Izuku began to open his mouth, [let’s wash our hands and get ready for dinner, what do you two say?]

[My hands are clean.]

[As are mine, they have been inside my gloves all day, just like Inko requested of me] Shanalotte tacked on.

[Why don’t we wash our hands anyways?] Brent offered, feeling like he was talking to a pair of toddlers instead of teens. [I don’t think Inko would let you have any food if you don’t wash your hands] Brent teased hoping the two would accept his reasoning.

[Why would mother refuse to feed us?]

[Why would she stop us from eating because we do not wash our hands?! We’ve already bathed more than once this month, we are plenty clean!] Shanalotte complained with wide eyes and a pout. [Why do we need to wash so much, I don’t understand, it doesn’t make sense] pulling off her glove, Shanalotte pushed it in Brent’s face [see this? My hand is perfectly clean, no filth, color as my arm!] Shanalotte exclaimed, pulling back the sleeve of her new shirt to show that her skin color was indeed the same between her forearm and hand. [I am perfectly clean Brent, I swear it upon my savior!]

[Look, I don’t have time to explain germ theory, why don’t you just wash your hands so we can have dinner] Brent pleaded.

[Germ theory?] Izuku questioned, [that sounds rather interesting.]

[I agree, tell me about germ theory] Shanalotte added.

[After you wash your hands] Brent scolded. Shanalotte’s pout intensified, [I won’t say another thing till we all wash our hands.]

[You are taking a vow of silence?] Izuku inquired.

[Brent, please stop doing something foolish] Shanalotte requested, [and tell me about these germs and give me food.]

‘Maybe she’s just hungry?’ Brent considered, tuning out the pair as they continued to whine like children, ‘she is a mutant, they tend to be a bit more ravenous as children - but she’s been fairly calm up until now.’

[Brent, Brent, Brent!] Shanalotte roared repeatedly tapping him on the shoulder, [cease you vow of silence and explain to me this germ theory!]

[Shanalotte, I don’t think Brent is going to cave, he is supposedly a hero,] ‘Supposedly? Excuse me Izuku? Weren’t you the first person to call me a hero?’ [I suppose we must acquiesce to his demands. Do you hear that Brent? We will play your game, wash our hands once more.]

Brent pushed out his lips in a thinking gesture, nodding before beckoning for them to follow to the bathroom sink to wash their hands as a trio. Forcing them to use soap was another point which had Brent scratching his head, but eventually, they did finish washing up before dinner. The trio settled into their seat, all dressed in casual clothes.

Brent was wearing his usual jeans and button-up flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up a bit letting his forearms breathe. Izuku was wearing a similar enough outfit of jeans and a plain tee-shirt. Shanalotte lastly, was wearing overalls and a long sleeve shirt, the sleeves of which had already been torn slightly on her claws, which Brent wasn’t too broken up about - they were pretty cheap clothes, mostly overstock donated to the government, so quality wasn’t all that important. Aside from the very obvious tears in Shanalotte’s sleeves, the two looked almost normal. Izuku’s eyes were a bit weirdly dull, and his scraggly starter of a beard didn’t exactly look like the normal high schooler which wasn’t surprising, beards weren’t usually allowed in schools, and Shanalotte’s long hair covering half her head was also a bit abnormal for Japanese students. Frankly, they looked more like American students, which was probably because he’d accidentally dressed them up like some of his high school friends back in the states.

The tension between the three was fairly easy to sense. Shanalotte was fairly obviously grumpy about the lack of food, or how he hadn’t explained germ theory, which he was slightly afraid to attempt. He only really knew the basics, so he was just going to hope that food would distract her from his lack of an explanation. [So, Izuku, ya mind telling me why you’d kill a lost child? Been wracking my head all day for a reason to do that.]

[What would you have us do then? What other option is there? This is a strange land, we’ve barely any rations, the child would be a liability, another mouth to feed.]

[Better to eat] Shanalotte added, still obviously grumpy, but more worryingly, still very possibly a cannibal. ‘She’s not actually a cannibal right?’ [even then, the creator of the child might not have survived either, better to put it out of its misery] Shanalotte added a moment later echoing the sentiment of Izuku.

[Well, you could just ask a hero to help] Brent offered, hoping to teach them a very basic lesson, to trust heroes to help.

[The first ‘hero’ to approach us was that vagrant E-Era’sir, I would hesitate to trust such a violent person] Izuku shot back eyes closed, [even if I were to entrust the child to E-Era’sir, who is to say that he would not eat the child alive? Torture the child, put them through more pain and misery. A quick death is more wise, a practiced and measured response.]

[Excuse me? Did you just say practiced?] Brent questioned, suddenly concerned that Izuku had, in fact, killed children before.

“Brent, would you mind helping me serve the food?” Inko called from the kitchen, giving Izuku an out this time, and Brent a way to escape the grumpy half-dragon whose stomach was audibly grumbling and growling. With that Brent stood up from the table.

[I’m going to get the food with Inko, I’ll be right back] Brent explained to the pair of debatably and possibly deranged teenagers, walking away from the table and into the kitchen where Inko was just finishing divvying up four bowls of katsudon. “Shanalotte is pretty hungry, think there will be enough for her?” Brent asked. Inko appeared to consider his question for a moment.

“If she’s still hungry, I have leftovers I could warm up” Inko offered, “well, we can cross that bridge after we’re done, grab a bowl and help bring them to the table won’t you?”

“Sure think Ink,” Brent said, grabbing two bowls and starting to head back to the table.

“Ink?”

“Thought I’d give you a nickname, don’t like it?”

“I don’t dislike it, sounds a bit childish is all.”

“It’s fine to be a bit childish sometimes.”

“I’m nearly forty”

“Really? You don’t look a day over thirty” Brent joked.

“Brent, are you flirting with me?”

“Honest compliment Ink, I swear.” Brent calmly walked back to the table, two bowls in hand, placing them in front of Izuku and Shanalotte who both began eating right away. [Y’know, it’s considered rude to start eating before everyone has been served] Brent commented, which evidently was the right comment as both of the teens put down their forks - at least they respected things like table etiquette. As Inko brought over the other two bowls he continued to explain, [in Japan, before a meal begins, everyone at the table says “Itadakimasu” which is like saying “let’s eat” or “thank you for the food”]

[Why not simply thank Inko directly?] Shanalotte question, [or is that what we are doing? Thanking Inko?]

[I’m pretty sure that’s the point] Brent considered, turning to Inko as she set down a bowl in front of his and her settings, “Shanalotte wants to know why we say ‘itadakimasu’ before a meal, it’s to thank the cook right?”

“It is to thank the animals for giving their lives to be our food” Inko replied bringing her hands together, “some, more religious people, give thanks to god.” Brent nodded at her explanation, his grasp of Japanese culture was pretty good, but he also had only picked up a few of the more specific things. He understood the majority, though some traditions he’d just taken at face value.

[It’s to thank the animals for being our food] Brent translated, [some people give thanks to god]

[Which one?] Izuku asked [because some gods would never deserve any sort of thanks]

[Just say “itadakimasu” and we can start eating] Brent lamented, putting his hands together.

“Itadakimasu” [Ai-tada-key-masu]

‘Those two are gonna need help with learning Japanese, ‘cause their pronunciation just hurt me’ Brent cringed, ‘oh god, how bad does it feel for Inko? A native speaker?’

“Good try you two” Inko clapped for the two, a proud smile spread across her face. Seeing his confusion, she explained “they tried their best and did a good job.”

“Their pronunciation was terrible though” Brent pointed out as the two in question began to dig into their katsudon.

“Yes, but at least they tried to speak Japanese, even trying is very good” Inko explained, “they only just heard the word for the first time yesterday.”

A sound of contentment escaped from Shanalotte, looking over, she had the whole piece of pork stuffed in her mouth, chewing happily, head leaned back, eyes closed, juices and oil dripping down her chin. He continued to watch, almost mesmerised by the obvious, simple, plain joy as the half-dragon girl devoured the pork cutlet in a ravenous fashion. It was apparent to him that Inko did not share the same fascination with her eating habit as she reached over the table with one of the spare napkins to wipe her face. ‘I wonder how she would do at a Texas steakhouse?’ Brent wondered. [Hey Shanalotte] Brent broached, the girl making a noise to indicate she was listening, [how much meat could you eat?]

Shanalotte chewed for a few more moments before swallowing, [a lot?]

[Why do you ask?] Izuku questioned.

[Thought it might be interesting to take Shanalotte to a steakhouse and see how much she could eat.]

[A steak-house?] Shanalotte asked, [there is a whole house made of steak?] She asked excitedly. [I would like to go to the steak-house!] She exclaimed.

“What are you three talking about?” Inko questioned, “it’s somewhat rude to exclude the host.”

“Ah, I was just thinking that Shanalotte eats a lot of meat and that she might like to go to a western style steakhouse.”

“Well that certainly sounds nice, thank you for inviting us Brent.” Inko smiled.

“Walked right into that one didn’t I?”

“You certainly did.”

[Please tell my mother that this dish brings back some pleasant memories, or fragments of memories at least.] Izuku requested with the same blank look on his face, the food in his bowl having decreased noticeably despite there being almost no evidence of him having eaten anything. It was like he ate without making a sound or even moving, it was kinda eerie if he was being honest.

[You can tell her yourself, the dish is called katsudon, if you want to say that you like it, you can say “I like the katsudon”] Brent suggested.

“M-mom, I-I like katsudon” Izuku stammered to say, [difficult, Japanese is difficult] 

[I will also try] Shanalotte added, “I like katsudon, mom.”

“Thank you, Izuku, Shana, very good try” Inko smiled - she looked about ready to burst with happiness at the compliments. “Shana, I am Inko, not mom for you” Inko suggested correcting the girl.

“I am Inko?” Shanalotte questioned. [Brent can you explain?]

[She is saying that she is Inko, ‘I’ is “I” in Japanese. Inko is her name. So then, if you wanted to say your name is Shanalotte?]

“I Shanalotte” Shanalotte said with a proud smile.

“I Izuku” the green haired boy added a moment later, Brent finally catching sight of the boy eating his katsudon.

Both of their pronunciations were decent, though weirdly, Shanalotte was superior to Izuku in the pronunciation. Izuku sounded a bit like some of Brent’s classmates in America while learning Japanese, it was pretty hard to believe that he was actually a native of Japan. 

“Both of you,” [good job!] Inko praised, giving both of them a thumbs up and a big smile.

[So, Shanalotte, how did you heal Izuku earlier? I thought you just had a half-dragon mutation.] Brent asked, suddenly reminded of the warm feeling of Shanalotte’s healing at the sight of Inko’s warm smile. It was oddly similar, the warmth of Inko’s smile and the memory of warmth from Shanalotte’s healing quirk. It wasn’t completely unheard of for mutants to also have an emission ability, but he couldn’t exactly see the connection between half-dragons and healing. Mutations for emission quirks usually had something in common, but he couldn’t think of a line of similarity. If she was a phoenix then maybe, but a dragon? No way in his mind.

[I told you before Brent, she is not a mutant, she is just a half-dragon.]

[And I also told you Brent, I used a miracle, same as Izuku.] Shanalotte echoed, repeating that she had the same quirk as Izuku - which didn’t even make sense given Izuku could apparently also control fire.

[What exactly can you do? What exactly is your quirk?]

[I am quirkless] Shanalotte responded quickly, without a moment of hesitation, [I possess no quirks, strange features, anything you could call a quirk.]

“Inko, how do I explain to these two that they have quirks?” Brent asked of the more experienced parent, thankful he had someone with a bit more experience in explaining things to what amounts to children.

Inko hummed for a moment, thinking, “I don’t know, if they honestly believe they don’t have quirks, then showing them quirks should be enough to show them they have one too right?”

“I guess that could work” Brent hummed, “don’t know how it’ll work out since they seem to think they have the same quirk.”

“They do? So Shana makes big explosions like Izuku?”

[Shanalotte, can you also use fire like Izuku?]

[No, I am a Keeper, he is not.] Shanalotte responded.

[Her status as a Keeper gives her extra privileges. Such as her bond to bonfires of her own creation.]

[So, um, what?] Brent scoffed, [Keeper? Keeper of what? Fire?]

[I tend the fire, nurture the flames, breathe life into them. I keep them.] Shanalotte explained.

[Then that is your quirk, your quirk is to keep fire… and to heal… and be a half-dragon... ] Brent trailed off realizing how confusing it would be to classify such a quirk. [Izuku, if Shanalotte can use miracles just like you, then can you heal too?]

[Shanalotte is better at pure miracles than I, but I could use some healing miracles.]

[I am far more talented in miracles, Izuku is far more intelligent and able to use a greater variety of spells. My faith however, is far greater than his.]

[My faith has long been shaken by meeting the figures from the tales wherein the inspiration of miracles are derived.]

[So, wait, does that mean Shanalotte could use your quirk? Promised Walk of Peace?]

[She could not because she lacks knowledge of the miracle’s deviations from the origin.]

[I can recount the tale of origins however, Tranquil Walk of Peace, and Vow of Silence-]

[Which I merged in order to modify and improve the tales, creating a twisted deviation, Promised Walk of Peace.]

[Wait, wait, wait, you said you were granted Promised Walk of Peace didn’t you?]

[I did not develop the whole of the miracle, I finished the tale.]

[Finished the tale? Is this a power or a tale, or a miracle, or what the hell are you talking about son?] Brent exclaimed, his confusion rising dramatically. “Inko, you wouldn’t happen to have any whiskey on hand, would you?”

“No, I stopped drinking years ago,” Inko responded to his question, “are they causing you trouble?”

[Miracles are tales, manifesting the power of the tale through a catalyst to charge the spirit and enforce the power onto the world itself.]

[Izuku rarely uses pure miracles, instead using his deviant sorceries.]

“Shh” Inko hushed the two, who shut their mouths, or more accurately went back to shoving food in their mouths. “Seems like they can be a bit rambunctious, can’t they?”

“I’d almost say you’re lucky you can’t understand them, they just don’t seem to shut up” Brent sighed, rubbing his head in exasperation. “They just have so much to say and none of it makes any sense to me” Brent groaned.

“They certainly sound like they are saying a lot” Inko commented, “what exactly are they saying anyhow?”

“They’re talking about their quirks, and how their quirks aren’t quirks but miracles, and powers, and I don’t even know. It’s like they have their own little language, or terms I guess.”

[Shanalotte, what do you think of the dish?]

[I want more, can I have yours?]

[Of course.]

[Thank you.]

“We should probably tell them that sharing food like that is a bit…” Inko started, “inappropriate. I already had to stop Shana from getting naked in front of Izuku twice.”

“She just gets undressed?” Brent asked “like, no modestly? No embarrassment?”

“Shana’s reasoning was something like how she was given to Izuku, I didn’t really understand, lord knows the app I have been using could be inaccurate. She doesn’t seem to care at all, the night I brought them here, and had them go into the bath, Shana just walked out fully nude! No towel or anything?”

“Your son has gotten himself a weird girlfriend.”

“That’s the weirdest thing! He doesn’t even react! Nothing phases him, or at least he just didn’t care - it’s not normal for a teen to be so... so passive. Earlier, Shana was taking a nap in such an inappropriate pose, arms hooked onto him, legs interlocked, pressing herself up against him, they might be boyfriend and girlfriend, but she shouldn’t be doing that in public! What did her mother ever teach her?”

“That’s a good question, we don’t actually know about Shanalotte’s parents, or well, I think she mentioned it during our interview, but why don’t we ask her?” Brent suggested to a nodding Inko. [Say, Shanalotte, who are your parents?]

[I was made by the Scholar of the First Sin, Count Aldia.]

[And your mother?]

[I don’t have a mother.]

“Shanalotte never met her mother.”

“That’s so sad” Inko gasped, “no wonder she doesn’t know any better, poor girl.”

[Izuku, do you have a father?]

[Presumably. All humans have a father and mother. I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.]

[It is possible, I enjoy learning about you. Brent, could you ask Inko about Izuku’s father? Such as where he is?]

[Seconded, I’d like to learn a bit about him as well.]

“The kids want to know about Izuku’s father.”

“Well, I’d rather tell that story another time, I can only handle so much in one day” Inko said, suddenly distant. Izuku, seemingly in response, let out a hum, as if reacting to Inko’s sudden distancing of herself, the dismissiveness.

[What are you reacting to?] Shanalotte questioned.

[An irrelevant thing, for now at least.]

“Why don’t we clear the table? Brent would you mind asking Izuku and Shana if they want to help clean up?”

Izuku and Shanalotte did try, at the very least, to help Inko in the kitchen, though it wasn’t long before they were sitting on the couch in the living room while Brent looked over his phone, not quite ready to leave for the night. Though he did also enjoy the music Inko put on as she continued to finish up the dishes, and it was a good opportunity to clear his mind from the bit of work he did earlier. It had been a very long day for him, waking up at 5 AM in order to be at the commission building at 6:30 in order to be present for a preliminary hearing between himself, Eraserhead and the board discussing the “unique” situation regarding the two kids. That took around two and a half hours, lots of bureaucracy, even accounting for the amount waived due to the kids’ strong quirks, and Eraserhead’s fairly strong judgement of them, it still was a long and boring event. Still, by the end, he was given jurisdiction on the case which led to him arriving with the test results and all the events of that morning. Skip forward an hour and he’s doing just a bit of hero work before getting back to dealing with the kids and this whole situation. Then back to the Commission to confirm the paperwork and his eventual guardianship over the kids, pick up some clothes for them, then he got a response text from Inko, went grocery shopping at so on and so forth.

Closing his eyes, he reflected on what he’d be responsible for in the next half a year at minimum; he would have to watch over these two kids, as a hero guardian, ensuring they didn’t get into trouble with the law, learned Japanese, passed a morals exam, and were able to be enrolled in a high school by the end of the whole process. That might have been oversimplifying it a bit, but it was still a daunting task nonetheless. What else could he do though? Give up on two kids who’d never gotten a chance at living a normal life? That just didn’t sit right with him.

“Sorry for the wait, there were more dishes than I’m used to, anything interesting happen while I was away?” Inko asked, plopping down onto the couch next to Shanalotte, which Brent found odd.

‘Is that because she’s afraid of Shanalotte doing something embarrassing?’ Brent considered. “I don’t think so,” [you two talk about anything interesting?]

[No] Izuku replied quietly, eyes closed, his shoulder just barely touching Shanalotte’s. He looked almost tired, though he usually seemed a bit tired based upon Brent’s own observations.

“There you have it, these two have nothing more to say.” Brent shrugged, putting his phone down, “I should probably get moving along soon, my apartment is a bit away from here. Tomorrow is gonna be busy again, and going on five hours of sleep isn’t the best idea.” Brent let out a heavy breath and rubbed his tired eyes, the exhaustion of the day hitting him now that he had a full belly and a soft seat. ‘If I don’t get out of here soon, I might just fall asleep’ he jokingly thought of his situation.

“Would you like some tea?” Inko offered.

“No thank you Ink, I really should be on my way,” Brent explained, his phone buzzing, “ah great, what’s this?” He groaned, picking up the phone and checking the message, “now, I really should be going someone messed up part of the paperwork back at the station.”

Inko hummed a tone for a moment, “Brent, why were Izuku and Shana at the police station?”

Brent coughed, instantly he began to think up an explanation which wasn’t completely off-base. To lie or not to lie, that was the question. ‘What sort of hero would I be if I lied to her? What sort of hero would I be if I told her I tried to shoot him?’

[Brent, what are you talking about?] Shanalotte questioned, [shoot? Would that have to do with that “gun” item you tried to use on Izuku?]

“Brent, did I just hear the words ‘gun’ and Izuku in the same sentence? Why might that be, I wonder? Why exactly were they at the police station?”

‘Well Brent, you’ve backed yourself into a corner this time didn’t you?’ Brent mentally bemoaned, “my rookie partner, Eraserhead-”

[E-Era’sir?] Izuku asked, his arm now fully pressed against Shanalotte’s own.

“Eraserhead thought they were villains and pounce, they broke the law by using their quirks, I got called in because Eraserhead isn’t the best at English. I got there and deescalated the situation, and had us all go back to the station to figure everything else out.”

“So why did Shana say gun and Izuku in the same sentence - did you try to shoot my son?”

“Well, you see-”

“Yes or no, did you try to shoot my son?”

“I did not” Brent said definitely, “they just wanted to know what a gun is.”

“Good” Inko said calmly, her smile having never left her face, a perfect mask of serenity, calm and collected thought. “Though, just to be safe,” Inko started, pulling out her phone and presumably using her translator app, [Izuku, how did you meet Brent and Eraserhead?]

[Shanalotte and I were traversing the streets in search of a familiar marker as to return home when we were assaulted by the Vagrant E-Era’sir. We protected ourselves using the talents so finely honed, destroying the weapon E-Era’sir attempted to restrain myself with using the rapier which has now been presumably sealed by the oddly equipped persons of that station. Brent, arrived after speaking through the same device as you use, a phone I believe it was called, and dissected my use of Promised Walk of Peace by attempting to make use of his weapon, a gun, only for his attempt to be thwarted by my miracle, staying his hand.]

Brent began to sweat as the translation started, Inko’s calm face unshifting as the abridged tale was recounted, “Brent, correct me if I am wrong, but Izuku’s Promised Walk of Peace prevents hostility, doesn’t it?”

“Well, you see-”

“Doesn’t it?”

“Yes” Brent admitted guiltily.

“So then, you were ready to shoot him, weren’t you?”

“Again, I was-”

“Because you wouldn’t be hostile towards him unless you intended to do him harm would you?”

“Now I take exception to that, it is entirely possible to be hostile to someone without intending harm!” Brent argued.

“But is that the case?”

“Yes!” Brent exclaimed. “I would never hurt someone just out of the blue, I’m not some sort of crazed gunman, I’m a professional hero.”

“Good, I’d be quite worried if the man who’s partially responsible for raising my son and Shana had tried to shoot them.” Inko spoke calmly, a more genuine smile spreading across her face, “now, I believe you said you needed to leave? We have a big day tomorrow don’t we? And it would also be a good idea to purchase some textbooks since my son and Shana have an awful lot of work to do to bring their academics up to par, don’t they?”

Brent let out an uneasy breath, blinking and frowning as he realized something. “Ink, didn’t I ask you to remind me not to become a parent?”

* * *

Morning peeked through the blinds in what felt like mere moments to Inko as she stirred within her bed, memories of the previous evening still stewing in her head. The warmth of the sheets comforted her even as the light seemed determined to rouse her before she desired. The light won, as it always did, forcing her to push off the worn, nostalgic All Might blankets - a long term keepsake from the days while Izuku had disappeared, but now he was back.

Izuku was back, he was home.

With a mighty yawn, Inko stretched out and pushed herself up in bed, slipping on her slippers and rising lazily, the sleep hardly having left her head or eyes. A second yawn filled the room as she pushed through the door of her bedroom, gazing out at the scene playing out in front of her. Izuku was laid out on the couch, Shanalotte laying atop him, their faces uncomfortably close together - for Inko. The two of them, sharing the bed, Shanalotte atop her son, cuddling into him, both swaddled in blankets, wrapped up together. The scene was intimate, uncomfortably so, as though she was walking in on a very inappropriate moment for her to intrude upon. Without making a sound, Shanalotte’s eyes opened staring keenly at Inko.

A PHONE CALL IS HERE! A PHONE CALL IS HERE!

Inko nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden loud sound of her traitorous phone ringing loud, disturbing the scene which could have almost been seen as pure and innocent. Scrambling for the phone, Inko shut it off before looking back at the scene. Shanalotte was upright, chin down, eyes up, and intensified stare fixated on Inko. She could have been discomforted by the intense stare, but she was made to be far more embarrassed by the immodest display of a fully naked woman puffing out her chest and straddling her son.

A high pitched, inhuman screech squeaked out of Inko’s mouth as she scrambled backwards stumbling slightly before landing behind her door, her heart pounding heavily at the risque, inappropriate, immoral, horrible scene of her baby boy sharing a bed with a naked woman. Putting her head in her hands, she rubbed her face as if attempting to scrubs the treasonous image of Shanalotte’s nude body straddling her baby, her little Izuku. “No, no, no, no, no, it, i-it must have, _must_ , have been j-just a, a, just a dream. Y-yes, yes, yes, Izuku’s still my baby boy, he’s not, not, not with Shana, no, no, no, no, he’d, no, he’d never, he’s, he’s a good boy.” Inko rambled aloud, “it’s just a dream, just a dream, couldn’t be real.” The whole ordeal culminated in Inko throwing herself back onto bed, hoping, praying that she could wake up from this rotten dream where Izuku was being straddled by a naked woman.

Tossing and turning around and around in her bed, Inko fought to have the illicit look of her son being straddled by a woman, who could have potentially passed as an erotic actress, pushing out her chest as if to draw attention to her immodest breasts. Eventually, Inko did rise from her bed once more, a feeling of assurance that it must have just been her imagination, herself no longer so flushed and discomforted by the perverted idea, it was just her imagination run wild. Standing in front of her door, Inko hesitated, still a bit shaken by the earlier delusion of seeing her son and Shanalotte. Gently slapping her cheeks, Inko was determined to see it through, opening the door, Inko peeked out towards the living room and the couch where Izuku and Shanalotte had been in her delusion.

Shanalotte was sitting there, wearing the home tailored sweat pajamas, waving at her with an empty smile, as though she was taunting Inko in some way. Fully walking through the door, Inko trudged forward into the main room, pulling out her phone and putting on the translation app, “Shana, did you sleep with Izuku?” Shanalotte looked at Inko for a moment before simply nodding, opening her mouth to indicate she intended to speak.

“Is it not expected of me to warm my savior’s body with my own? I would fail my duties if I were to not keep him warm through the evening.” The phone translated Shanalotte's speech. 

Inko’s jaw dropped.

A spoon dropped from Brent’s mouth.

Brent was over. Inko turned to the kitchen to see that indeed Brent had already arrived, fully dressed, just like Izuku, both of whom were in the kitchen, Brent drinking coffee, and Izuku chewing on some bread. “Good morning Inko.” Brent greeted with a smile and a raising of his coffee cup, taking a sip and earning a reprimanding remark from Izuku and Shanalotte.

Inko on the other hand, was still attempting to catch up with the whirlwind of confusion which had appeared in her home, like a deer caught in the headlights, unable to even stutter out a response to the situation. Inko watched on passively as Izuku brought forth a strange flask from one of the pouches on the belt from the garb he’d been wearing when he arrived, taking a sip of the crimson liquid, licking his lips and offering some to Shanalotte who hopped up and took the rest of the flask happily. Brent furled his brows, presumably asking what exactly they were drinking, only for Izuku to begin a long diatribe, presumably explaining the whole of the bizarre potion in enough words to necessitate Brent putting his hand up and shooing off the rest of the explanation. 

“Good morning, Brent, um, isn’t it a bit early for you to be over? How did you even get inside?”

“Early? It’s almost noon?” Brent said with a tone of disbelief, which Inko confirmed looking at her phone, “and Izuku let me in - hope you don’t mind, I transferred my coffee to one of your mugs.”

“How did it get so late in the day?”

“Shanalotte said you were up but went back to bed for some reason, guess you needed to rest just a bit more” Brent postulated sipping some more coffee, “anyhow, the appointment for the quirk assessment is in an hour and a half. I came over to make sure everything was ready with these two, guess it was a good thing, huh?” Brent joked with a smile.

Inko rubbed her temples at the poor motherly display, “yes, why don’t we get ready?” Inko suggested, “we can pick up lunch before the quirk examination.” 

“I’m more than game, faster we can get this all done, the better.” Brent agreed, saying something in English to Shanalotte who began to pull off her top.

Power walking over, Inko took Shanalotte by the arm, who in turn latched onto Izuku; still though, it did successfully stop her from pulling off her clothes in the middle of the kitchen. “No, just you Shana, Izuku’s already dressed,” and he was, wearing a similar outfit to last night, unnoteworthy jeans and a long sleeved shirt.

Shanalotte opened her mouth, indicating once more that she intended to speak, the app translating for her a moment later, “Why are you pulling me from Izuku? If we are dressing, it would be better for me to stay by his side to better protect him.” Inko rolled her eyes, tugging at Shanalotte once more, who broke off Inko’s grip, pulling her arm free, starting intently at Inko.

Brent then intervened, saying something in English to Shanalotte which caused her to change her mind, releasing her grip on Izuku and nodding in submission, following Inko back into the bedroom. Pulling up her phone, Inko asked Shanalotte a question, “didn’t anyone ever teach you not to get naked with boys?” She chided. 

Through the translator, Shanalotte responded, “I fail to see the issue with being naked around Izuku, he is my savior, the reason I still exist, I am his protector and he mine.”

“Being naked is inappropriate!”

“Why?”

“Because it isn’t right for girls to get naked around boys, they could do bad things.” Inko suggested vaguely, not entirely sure if she was ready to have the talk with another woman’s daughter. She hadn’t even had the talk with her own son!

“Izuku would never do anything bad to me.” Shanalotte contended through the translation app, which made Inko proud of her son, yes, but also worried for Shanalotte’s lacking common sense. Inko decided to let it slide, for now - six months was plenty of time to teach her that, although Izuku was good and pure, other boys were unlikely to be as considerate.

Pulling out some of the clothes which Brent had purchased for Shanalotte, Inko decided to dress Shanalotte up in a nice looking, if plain, dress and some leggings. It would have been quite easy, if Inko hadn’t realised too late that Shanalotte didn’t have any undergarments. Shanalotte did not enjoy the process of putting on a bra, whining, complaining, and eventually destroying the bra which Inko thought would fit her. The compromise was to give her a sports bra, which surprisingly, worked out fine for Shanalotte, who gently played with the bra, inspecting the materials, only slightly tearing it with her claws. Eventually, Inko had managed to dress Shanalotte in the dress and leggings, granted they also had a few holes punched in them from Shanalotte poking and testing the fabric, but she was dressed.

Something she had noticed about Shanalotte while helping her dress, the girl had scars; Shanalotte had several scars on her body, the most noteworthy being a line running across her stomach, the discoloration being unlike scars Inko had seen before. She had noted scars on Izuku, but she had not looked closely as of yet, it made her wonder, ‘does Izuku also have scars like this? Deep, dark scars?’

Mostly finished fussing with Shanalotte’s clothes, Inko chose to open the blinds a bit, to decide how best to add embellishments and accessories to the half-dragon’s outfit. That’s when she saw it, on the tall red headed woman’s hand, something on her finger, reflecting and refracting the light. A ring. ‘ _No_ ’ Inko thought with desperation walking up to Shanalotte and inspecting her left ring finger. It was a modest sort of thing, a light, almost dry clay colored ring band inset with small, ruby like gems. Not a wedding ring, not a wedding band, and now that she was looking closer at Shanalotte’s hand, not the only ring.

Disaster averted, Inko went back to helping add some style to the half-dragon. Taking the leather cord with a feather on the end and using it to wrap around Shanalotte’s waist, which fit decently well, adding a splash of color to the otherwise grayscale outfit, tying the whole affair together. Inko had noticed that Shanalotte seemed to be a bit anxious whenever she didn’t have her feather, a childish thing, and found that it worked decently well to comfort Shanalotte while also improving her look. There was something nice about the look of Shanalotte tenderly clutching her feather, a childish innocence from an otherwise shameless girl.

Leading the girl back out of the bedroom, she found Izuku arguing with Brent over something she couldn’t understand. Her eyes zeroed in on his left hand, finding a similar ring on his own left ring finger ‘maybe it’s some sort of promise ring?’ Inko considered, clearing her throat, announcing her and Shanalotte’s presence. The sound of ripping came from behind her, Inko turning around in horror to find Shanalotte tearing the dress for whatever reason, shortening the dress from just below the knee to mid-thigh. A sharp, toothy smile spread across her face as she tried a few kicks, which ended up ripping into the wooden floor a little bit.

‘I’m going to need to get her some house boots or something’ Inko cringed at the increasingly damaged state of her hardwood floors.

“She’s gonna need some heavy duty house shoes if you want to keep your floor intact” Brent commented, giving voice to her thoughts. “You want breakfast? I brought bagels.”

“That would be nice,” Inko responded, already drained by the whole affair, accepting the offering of bagels for breakfast. Settling down at the table, Inko, Izuku and Shanalotte all enjoyed their bagels, Inko having hers toasted, though not as much as Izuku, and some fish, though not as much as Shanalotte. It was strange to Inko that Izuku liked his food so overly cooked, she couldn’t think of too much of a reason for him to like his food burned. It made enough sense for Shanalotte to like eating meat so much, mutants often had dietary quirks like that, though it did make Inko fear for her lacking pantry and fridge. “I’ll need to go grocery shopping,” Inko thought aloud.

“You could probably do that while the quirk registration is going on,” Brent advised, “it’ll just be a long and drawn out examination.”

“Didn’t you say that it would be the same as was done for villains?” Inko quested, recounting the explanation from yesterday.

“Normally, yes, but it can be used for adults, remember? Like how you can’t come with because of that.” Brent reminded, though Inko was only drawing a blank, like chunks of her memory had been whisked away, a dangerous sign. Confusion, one of the agreed upon first symptoms of the disease every survivor suffered from. “So, while I take them to the testing site, you can go grocery shopping, clothes shopping, maybe buy Shanalotte some shoes so she stops tearing up the floors,” Brent advised with a sly smile.

Izuku said something to Brent, who nodded once before stopping abruptly, frowning and replying. The two went back and forth as Inko and Shanalotte ate their bagels, their argument rising slowly and steadily until Izuku walked over to his hexagon chime thing and staff holding onto them like a child, protesting further. It was almost entertaining as both became more and more animated with their gesticulations, Izuku waving his staff around like a wand and Brent miming a baseball bat.

So what else would happen but Shanalotte injecting herself into the situation on the side of Izuku, having finished her bagel. Inko decided it was worth while to hear just a bit of what they were talking about, pulling out the translator app and activating it to record the conversation a bit. While letting the app translate, Inko considered if she could get a better translator, maybe a dedicated device like a Babel Fish, the tech gadget some American company produced but had to pull from the market due to copyright issues or some such thing. There were presumably options, perhaps she could ask Brent about translation devices so make home life a bit easier. Finally checking the translation from the app, Inko frowned at the topic of discussion, which she should have been able to guess by the actions the two were taking, Izuku wanted to bring his staff and chimes, Brent didn’t want him to bring his staff and chimes, citing how his staff was a heavy metal rod. Shanalotte was concerned about whether or not it would even be safe to leave Izuku’s staff and chimes at the house. “If they are worried about someone stealing his staff and chimes, the house is perfectly safe, there’s only one key for all the locks.” Inko added to the conversation, causing a break as Brent took in her words before relaying the information.

A few minutes later, the staff and chimes were placed atop Izuku and Shanalotte’s old clothes, the group on the front step as Inko locked the door. “So then, how long will the quirk evaluation take?”

“Should be a couple of hours, though the actual examination should only take an hour,” Brent explained, “how long do you think all of your business will take? If we finish up sooner, then we could meet somewhere in the city for lunch or something.”

“Maybe a steakhouse” Inko teased, “we can just call one another couldn’t we?”

Brent rubbed his scraggly salt and pepper beard, “yeah, guess that’s right, we’ll just be over at the Dathomir testing facility-”

“Where exactly is the Dathomir testing facility? Dathomir doesn’t sound like any ward I’ve ever heard of, especially not in the area.” Inko considered wracking her head for some mention of Dathomir.

“It’s a government sector inside Musutafu, remember when the government bought most of the land in the aftermath of the Black Downpour incident? That’s Dathomir. Most people still just call it Musutafu though.” Inko nodded at his explanation, it was true that much of the destroyed city had been purchased by the government, but she’d never heard that it had been restructured as a new ward. Something like that should have made the news, but then again, she’d largely checked out of the news cycle until just a few years ago, she could have missed it.

“Oh, that’s quite closeby, isn’t it? Well, shall we be off then?” Inko suggested a certain nagging feeling causing her to consider if she was forgetting something about today. She couldn’t exactly even remember the date, but if it was so important, then she would have remembered, surely.

* * *

Brent waved goodbye to Inko as she stepped onto the train headed towards another part of Musutafu, their train arriving a few minutes later. Izuku and Shanalotte seemed extremely anxious to be surrounded by people on the crowded train, as though they were ready to snap and attack someone. He wouldn’t put it past them, he had a hard time adjusting to the very crowded trains of Japan. As the train rounded a bend, Brent watched as a tired looking business man’s hand brushed against Shanalotte, if it was intentional, he couldn’t tell.

Shanalotte didn’t seem to give him even an ounce of the benefit of the doubt, grabbing his hand by the wrist, [why hast thou touched mine body pig-swine, you are not my savior, speak or I shall ask my savior to take your life.]

Before Brent could act, Izuku also set upon the man, who Brent was increasingly sure was just an innocent accidentally touching Shanalotte, Izuku also took hold of the man’s arm, earning a groan from the businessman, [you foul vagrant, mindless oaf, empty husk of flesh, for what reason have you assaulted mine companion.] Brent noted a brighter look in Izuku’s eye, his brows a bit more furled in anger.

Brent moved in, breaking it up, [It was just an accident you two,] Brent consoled, “I’m sorry sir, these two are foreigners who’ve had a rough time, they’re a bit on edge in crowded places.”

“Ah, think nothing of it,” the man apologized, “I know the Japanese have a bad reputation for, well, you know.” 

[Brent, this man assaulted me, will you not do your supposed hero work and execute him?] Shanalotte requested, earning a head chop and a harsh whisper.

[It was an accident, heroes don’t kill, we can talk more once we’re off the train, it’s considered rude to talk on the train] Brent admonished, [okay?]

[Fine.]

[Izuku?]

[Very well.]

Brent sighed as the trip continued, now body blocking the rest of the train from the two teens, which to an outside observer would have looked slightly inappropriate, but if it prevented Izuku and Shanalotte from assaulting another person, he’d deal with it. It was an odd position for him to be in, physically putting himself next to the kids, a bit too close for his own comfort. There was plenty about the whole situation which discomforted him, yes there was the momentary discomfort of embarrassing himself to protect Izuku and Shanalotte, but more uncomfortable was the notion that these two kids were his in a way.

He was their legal guardian, their father, more or less, a father figure. He’d almost called his own Dad last night for advice on how to be a parent, he hadn’t because he wasn’t sure that he needed help quite yet, but he had left the option on the table. He might ask in a couple of days when he had his usual family call, but he had time to iron out some of the weirdness of the relationship he’d fallen into. He didn’t even have many friends he could ask for advice on how to be a parent, most of the time, heroes didn’t become parents due to occupational hazards, and though he had some friends who weren’t heroes, none of them were parents. He wasn’t sure if he could be a good parent for them, he could talk to them, he could be patient, and he was pretty sure that was important for being a parent, but given the difference between himself and Inko’s reactions, he felt like he was in the deep end.

Brent decided that he’d need to look into some parenting books or something like that if he wanted to be a good role model for these kids. It would be a good idea, maybe learn some basics on how to teach children a language, he knew those sorts of books existed, so there was no reason to not think that it would work.

The train rattled along, relative peace brought about by the lack of interaction between the kids and other people. When it came time to disembark, Brent had to pull the two through the crowd, suddenly considering if he should try and find a child leash for them. Luckily for them, the thought passed quickly as they began walking down from the platform, down the streets where they’d first met merely days before. The streets weren’t overly busy, not that they ever were, though that didn’t stop Izuku and Shanalotte from walking into the street like a pair of children trying to get hit by cars. Honestly, it just cemented the point that these two had no clue how to function in a normal society.

Walking into the facility, Izuku and Shanalotte both marveled at the scale of the building, the interior design of the government building, the number of security systems in place, guards, which was relatively standard for government buildings which dealt directly with villains, but for these two, it was fantastical. Walking up to the receptionist, Brent explained the situation, prompting a set of guards to approach them to serve as escort for the two down to the testing chambers. Neither Izuku nor Shanalotte seemed to respond, though if Brent had to guess, then there was a real chance they were both ready to get into a fight. Walking through the hallways they approached an elevator, a sudden realization running through Brent’s mind.

Izuku and Shanalotte both seemed to have difficulty with enclosed spaces, certainly if there were people around them. There was a real chance of them acting up if anything happened on the elevator. “Are there stairs we could take?” Brent questioned.

“Why?” the representative questioned, pressing the button to call and elevator.

“The kids have claustrophobia,” Brent explained, making up the plausible excuse on the spot, “I think it would be for the best if we take the stairs.”

“We have to travel five floors,” the representative deadpanned, rightfully pointing out the insanity, “can’t they suck it up?”

“They were both held captive by villains, triggering them would be a bad idea,” Brent explained, “need I remind you, they are both here because their quirks are on par with a pro hero’s.”

[For what reason are we standing here, waiting, instead of moving towards the hall?] Izuku questioned, breaking a moment of silence.

“English? Do they understand Japanese?”

“No,” Brent replied, [we have to descend a few floors to get to the hall, I think we should take the stairs.]

[Is there not an elevator?] Shanalotte questioned, [I’d rather us hurry, I am concerned to be surrounded by these… things, constructs.]

‘Can she not tell these are just people wearing riot gear?’ Brent considered for a moment before realizing, [wait, you know what elevators are?]

[How else would one traverse the great towers of Brume, the glorious architecture of Anor Londo, the depths of the sunken city, the castles of Drangleic, of-] Izuku began pontificating.

[And yet you don’t know what trains are?] Brent asked, exasperated that they knew elevators, but not trains. That would be like them knowing what planes were, but not cars - which he knew they didn’t know, ‘oh god if they know what planes are I am going to go insane.’ Brent pinched the bridge of his nose as the elevator opened, “they say the elevator is fine.”

The group boarded the elevator, descending down five floors to the testing ground, which was a large open space with an observation room overlooking the field. “This is where you depart, the testers will oversee from the observation room for their protection,” the representative explained, showing them the path with his arm into the examination room. Brent nodded, leading Izuku and Shanalotte into the room as the elevator closed behind them.

Shanalotte broke from the group wandering in the room a bit, looking at the heavy duty metal walls, [Impressive metal work, Izuku, is this as expansive as the Iron Keep?]

[It is far more shiny, as though they spend an excessive degree of time polishing their walls - for a hall to examine a person's might, I fail to see why they care about the luster or sheen.]

“Snipe, thank you for being here to translate for us, I presume these two have had the basis of the exams explained already?” A voice came on over the intercom. Brent showed a thumbs up to the observation room, already briefed that there were no microphones in the exam room which linked back to the observation room. “Now then, which- wait, both of their names are Midoriya? Uh, let's have the boy go first. You reported that he was able to stop hostility _and_ manipulate fire? Well, let’s start with the fire, I guess…” the observer announced, “please instruct him to use his fire power, if needed we can provide some fire for him.”

[Alright, Izuku, can you do that fire thing again?] Brent requested of the green haired boy.

[I need a bonfire] Izuku responded, [and like I said, it is flame sorcery.]

Brent nodded to the observation room, signing “fire” to indicate the need for flames. Said flames were brought out by a small pilot light which was produced after a chunk of floor shifted slightly. [There’s your fire Izuku, do your flame sorcery] Brent requested.

[That is not a bonfire,] Izuku replied, [I said I require a bonfire.]

Brent shook his head at Izuku, [what? I-I mean, what’s the difference?]

[It is not a bonfire, born of the flames brought forth by a keeper of fire.]

[Shanalotte, you mentioned you were a keeper or whatever right? Can you make a bonfire for Izuku?] Brent requested, suddenly seeing some issues with this exam. [Please?]

[There is no fuel, no bones to temper the flame, breathe life to the flames, bring about a pure and noble flame,] Shanalotte explained, earning a groan from Brent as he realized that, for whatever reason, Izuku couldn’t use just any fire for his quirk, no, he needed fire made by Shanalotte.

‘Is it a codependency thing?’ He thought, hoping that to be the explanation of why Izuku was refusing to use his quirk to manipulate the fire. [Could you try anyways Izuku?] Brent asked, hoping that Izuku could prove it even with the issue of not having the fire that he wanted.

[It will not work] Izuku maintained, [but if you insist,] Izuku shrugged, raising his hands over the fire. A stream of nonsense, sounds which didn’t even constitute real words in either English or Japanese, there were some sounds which reminded him of German or Polish or French or Russian, all sorts of sounds came from his mouth, including some clicks reminiscent of tribal African languages.

‘Maybe he really does know another language, or two, or three, or however many he’s speaking right now,’ Brent considered as Izuku finished speaking with the flame flickering a bit, but otherwise not moving what so ever. He was stunned, no generating fire, not pulling it into a ring, no spinning sphere of fire, nothing, just a flicker of the flame which could be mistaken as a draft. [Is that it?] Brent asked, a bit crestfallen at Izuku’s lacking display of the power _he_ knew the boy had. Izuku stared at him with empty eyes nodding. [No way, you were able to do so much! Come on, you can do it Izuku, give it another try] Brent prompted. Izuku shrugged and began reciting the same string of words, and the same disappointing lack of effect on the pilot light. Brent looked up at the observation room, shrugged, and signed “needs bones.”

“What do you mean he needs bone? Are you saying he can’t use his _fire_ quirk without _bones_?” the observer said with an incredulous voice. Brent nodded a bit off put by the whole ordeal of asking government employees for bones. “You’re kidding right?” Brent shrugged with an exasperated look on his face, nodding. “Really?” the observer asked almost begging for it to be a joke, “yeah, sure, think we have some chicken bones in the trash, we’ll have someone send them down if we have them. Could we do the other ability? Promised Walk of Peace?” the observer requested. Brent nodded, turning to Izuku.

[Alright, Izuku, they’re gonna bring some bones so Shanalotte can make a bonfire for ya, how ‘bout you use your Promised Walk of Peace?]

[I don’t have my chimes.]

[Are you kidding me!] Brent exclaimed, slapping his forehead, [you don’t need your chimes to use your quirk!]

[I do, in fact, need my chimes in order to make use of Promised Walk of Peace, as I explained in mine mother’s home, before we left for this childish, pointless endeavor to prove that I do not possess a quirk.] Izuku explained with an indignant tone, maintaining his false quirkless status.

[Why do you need your chimes?] Brent questioned, [for what reason do you need a chime, a couple of bells, in order to use your quirk?]

[Tis a catalyst, a passway of strength and director of miracles, praising the tale it recounts.]

[For pete’s sake,] Brent scoffed, [Shanalotte also uses miracles right? She doesn’t use chimes, so you should be able to do that right?]

[I use my feather] Shanalotte interjected, [I’ve owned it for countless cycles and imbued it with the purity of flames.]

‘Purity of flames?’ Brent mentally questioned, pushing the odd term out of his mind, [can you use that?] Brent asked of Izuku, who shrugged.

[It is… possible, one day, though not today] Izuku maintained.

[WHY?] Brent yelled completely lost on why Izuku couldn’t use his quirk, wouldn’t use it with Shanalotte’s feather, and was being so difficult. ‘Is this what parents have to deal with?’ Brent mentally cried. [Why can’t you just use your quirk?]

[I don’t have a quirk!] Izuku replied.

[So then, why won’t you use Shanalotte’s feather?]

[It is an extension of her being, I have not completed that portion of the contract with her yet.]

Brent shook his head as he tried to process the confusion of the situation, [is _this_ where you draw the line? Using her feather?]

[It is a very personal thing Brent] Shanalotte explained, [though I will cherish the moment Izuku completes our contract, accepts and claims me in totality.]

[Not digging into that can of worms] Brent bemoaned, putting up his hand in protest, [Izuku, does it have to be your chimes? Would just, some bells or like, a wooden stick work? Like a wand or something?]

Izuku paused for an inordinate amount of time, [I suppose] finally giving an answer.

“Pencil” Brent signed to the observation room.

“What exactly is going on with him that he needs all of this random bullshit?” the observer asked, rightfully frustrated with the bizarre requirements for Izuku to do anything apparently. Brent shrugged, completely vexed by the obscure and strange requirements for him to use his quirk. “Alright, yeah, we’ll tell our man who is getting the bones to grab a pencil on the way down,” the observer sighed, obviously confused and irritated by the difficulty of the exam. “Let’s just switch to the girl Midoriya for now, we’ll get back to the boy when we’re done with her. Let’s seen she’s supposed to be a… half-dragon mutant who can manipulate fire and heal people. Oh, good, three effects. Good, good, two effects was _so_ easy. Alright, let’s look at her mutation’s abilities… fire, lightning, poison, ice, or dark breath? What the hell is this? Immortality? How the fuck are we supposed to test for immortality? Okay, here we go, strength, healing, improved senses and claws. We can test that,” the observer stated calming down after the absurdity of potential abilities Shanalotte possessed. A padded dummy rose from the ground as a plate in the ground shifted. “Please have her punch the dummy.”

The testing for Shanalotte’s mutation proceeded without nearly as much hassle compared to Izuku’s quirk, probably because Shanalotte didn’t have any real issue doing anything with her mutation. It was time consuming, with a guard eventually arriving to hand Brent a bag of day old fried chicken bones and a single pencil. The results found that, aside from her claws, Shanalotte possessed enhanced senses, hearing, scent, sight, low-light sight as well as the possibility of a sixth sense, and an unremarkable amount of enhanced strength, not more than 50% more than an average person, with a note made how she appeared to be in very good shape. There was no proving her enhanced healing, nor an attempt as that would be covered during the physical.

“Alright, let’s try the fire manipulation, might as well try the boy’s fire manipulation at the same time,” the observer commanded, tiredness showing up on his voice rather clearly.

[Alright Shanalotte, do your fire thing,] Brent prompted, believing it would be possible for her, tossing her the bag of chicken bones.]

Shanalotte looked at the bag passively, walking over to the pilot light and emptying the bones onto the flame, all of which burst into flames in a manner Brent wouldn’t have expected given her stated abilities. Waving her feather over the flame, it shrank down a bit before steadying into a comforting blaze nearly a meter in height, the flames moving slowly, as though they weren’t flames at all, but some facsimile. Sitting down on her knees, Shanalotte stared into the flame happily, as though she didn’t want for anything else.

“Is, is that all she can do?” the observer questioned.

[Is that all you can do Shanalotte?]

[At present, with these lacking, woeful bones, it would be better if you were to give me the bones of a greater creature, perhaps one of E-Era’sir’s kin, an elite would provide a much greater flame.] Shanalotte replied, not looking away from the flames which waved and burned slowly, the bones not seeming to change as the flame ate hungrily at the flesh still sticking to them. With a shrug and a nod, Brent motioned to the observers that she was doing all she could.

“So she can make fires out of bones… that’s weirdly underwhelming, right, let’s have the boy do his supposed fire manipulation as well.” 

[Alright Izuku, could you do your flame sorcery now?] Brent prompted Izuku, who nodded walking over to the flame, putting his hand up to it, the fire enlarging in response. The flames returned to their previous form as he stepped back from them, a dull, lost look in his eyes as he began to mutter.

[Brent, you wouldn’t happen to have a scroll would you, I’d like to adjust my sorcery to avoid failing once more,] Izuku requested.

[Please, just do the fire thing] Brent pleaded, pinching the bridge of his nose, [if you get hurt, Shanalotte can heal you again. Right Shanalotte?]

[It is my pleasure to heal my savior, to remove his woes, to lessen his burden, such is my duty to him.]

[There you have it Izuku, use your quirk.]

[It is not a quirk, it is a flame sorcery,] Izuku maintained, holding up his hands, uttering the verses of his “sorcery” the flames moving from the flame, forming the same ring as the previous day. The quirk processed in much the same way, though Izuku paused his chanting as the ring spun rapidly, appearing to turn into a sphere. [I do not wish to finish the sorcery, it would be an exercise in futility and a pointless endeavor.]

[Well, you showed you can manipulate fire so you can stop now, just stop the fire.]

[I cannot.]

[Excuse me?]

[The tale is unfinished Brent, Izuku must finish the tale before the flames can be allowed to subside, their purpose is known, but unfinished.] Shanalotte explained, putting her feather to her lips, [it's a rather odd tale though.]

[As Shanalotte explained, I must finish giving reason to the flames.]

“Alright, we see that he can manipulate fire, he can stop now,” the observer requested.

[Can’t you just, make something up?] Brent asked of Izuku, [or just finish your tale or whatever?]

[I do not like failing in the same way, there is nothing gained, though I have an idea; Shanalotte, what was the ending of the tale of All-Father Lloyd’s folly?]

[I believe it was relating to the folly of Gwyn] Shanalotte said as though attempting to remember something, before reciting something quickly in the strange language Izuku spoke before using his quirk. [Such recounds one of the follies, though, your knowledge of the folly of the Lord of Sunlight is far greater than my own. The only other would be based on tales of Velka.]

[I could use the Crow’s tales] Izuku agreed, again, confusing Brent with the strange language and references to things he’d never heard of. Such was evidently not a problem for Izuku who began to chant once more in his strange language, the sphere shrinking gradually before disappearing all together. [It is done, I may have produced a new sorcery, please strike me.]

[Excuse me?] Brent asked, [why?]

[The tale of retribution requires aggression from another, though I do not know the exact effect of the sorcery, thus, I must enact the sorcery, so I ask once more, please strike me.]

“What exactly is the issue? Is he asking for something weird again?” Brent nodded to the observers, punching his hand before pointing to Izuku, “he wants to get hurt? We can do that, we're gonna shoot him with a rubber bullet, standby.” As they finished speaking a turret descended from the ceiling, taking aim at the ground in front of Izuku before firing once.

The swirling inferno which burst forth from Izuku’s body dwarfed that of the one from the explosion the previous day, remnants of the flame turning black for a moment as they continued to burn the metal around Izuku as the main body of the burst of flames dissipated. There Izuku stood, his body partially burned, eyes bright, a fanged smile and full body laugh echoing in the chamber. It looked like a prototypical villain laugh, surrounded by devastation, black fires, a full body, crazed laugh. [What a brilliant idea of a new sorcery!] Izuku cheered for himself, his voice the most energetic Brent had heard from the boy since having met him. Even his eyes were no longer dull, they were brighter, full of manic energy.

[Izuku, are you okay?] Brent asked, getting closer to the boy surrounded by dying black flames, who dropped his arms and ceased his laughing.

[I am burned, but otherwise fine,] Izuku replied, his eyes turning dull once more, his voice dropping back to its usual bored tone.

“The girl is able to heal others correct? Please have her heal him, if she cannot we will send medical staff to prevent long term injury,” the observer requested. Brent didn’t even need to say anything to Shanalotte as she walked over to Izuku, already chanting her own verses. Finally, she finished with a flourish of her feather, unleashing that healing light once more, washing over the two and healing Izuku’s wounds. Brent also noted that the light turned the still burning black flames back to a normal orange which died out soon after. “Well, that’s confusing as hell,” the observer noted, “well, the girl Midoriya has a pretty weird quirk, but our naming guy has decided to name it Light Dragon, though that is subject to change, the official documentation will reflect the real name of her quirk. Right, so the boy can still do some hostility prevention thing? Please have him do that.”

[Alright Izuku, please use your Promised Walk of Peace.]

[I do not have a catalyst, I told you this earlier Brent, is your mind quite well? Perhaps you are going hollow,] Izuku questioned with an odd look on his face, distrusting if Brent had to assign a name to it.

Offering Izuku the pencil, [try using this.]

Izuku took the pencil and looked at it with a bemused expression, [it is so small.]

[Is that a problem?]

[Potentially, it could break.]

[That’s fine] Brent assured.

[If you are willing to suffer the consequences I’ll not hold back and invoke this miracle, though it will ner’ be of the same quality of mine preferred chimes and staves,] Izuku explained as he began to chant over the pencil, which was a pretty funny, childish to see a fairly grown up looking person chanting gibberish, or maybe another language, over a pencil with so much seriousness.

‘He said preferred chimes and staves, does that mean he has more of those things? Where would he even keep them?’ Brent considered as Izuku raised the pencil above him, ‘I mean, I guess I could understand having a few backup, support items? I guess they would be support items, I’ll have to apologize about that later. Will he even bring it up?’ Brent continued to think about his argument with Izuku that morning before they left Inko’s home.

_BOOM_

A miniature explosion of wooden and graphite splinters burst forth from Izuku’s hand as a pulse of darker light pressed out passed him, returning a moment later and sinking into his body. It was a subtle thing, barely visible to Brent. [Tis finished, as is the measly wand you’ve offered me] Izuku announced, throwing away the end of the pencil.

“Was that the Promised Walk of Peace thing?” the observer questioned, to which Brent shook his head, pulling back his arm, stepping towards Izuku and attempting to punch him, his arm and body being locked down by the grey haze which swirled around from nowhere, coating his body. His whole body felt weirdly cold as he attempted to move more, either to punch Izuku, or to stop his punch. Intentionally pulling back, and hard, he felt his body become stiff before the coldness receded in totality, the visible grey haze disappearing. Looking up at the observation room and nodding. “That’s a weird one, one moment and we’ll have a preliminary name for his quirk. A, wait, they don’t speak Japanese, um, Snipe, we may need you to assist with the medical exams, for both of them, you are their legal guardian, correct?”

‘When I got up today, I honestly didn’t think this is how I would be spending it’ Brent thought as he nodded, a pained expression on his face, ‘I’m going to have to assist with the medical exams? That’s a bit much. Maybe I could find someone else for Shanalotte? Because that’s going to be very uncomfortable.’

In the end, “assisting with the medical exams” actually meant sitting outside the room and translating. There were of course issues, which, of course there were issues, every single part of this whole event had issues, the resolution of the issue of Izuku and Shanalotte not wanting to be separated was, unfortunately for the nurses and doctors, to have them both in the room at all times. The whole process was incredibly uncomfortable for everyone involved. Brent had to relay sensitive information, both Izuku and Shanalotte had severe discomfort with being checked out by medical professionals, and the medical professionals had moral issues with Izuku and Shanalotte’s whole relationship. It was a total mess, one he had no plan of telling Inko about because he was sure that she’d have countless issues with every single part of the examination.

‘She’ll be very upset if she finds out Izuku had to get injured…’ Brent thought as he sat in the waiting room, his mind slowly realizing something decently important, Izuku had destroyed his shirt. ‘Fuck.’

* * *

Izuku adjusted the new shirt Brent had just recently purchased for him in order to replace the one destroyed by his new effort in combining the flames of the bonfire with tales of the old gods, old entities whose miracles transcended ages, the resulting mesh of flames and perversion of those old tales in his own unique way, something he had mastered, adjusted from his teacher’s method, improved from the old ways, touched with something primordial, reinforced by the absence of the same material which brought such power to those who invoked the tales of olde. It was both a blessing and a curse that he could only perform such feats, he would have honestly preferred if he could make use of healing miracles like Shanalotte, pure sorcery like Carhillion, or even manipulate flames in a pure unmolested form. Though he did once wish to have a pure flame, he had an appreciation of the powers he was able to levy, the warmth, while not as bright and comforting as the sunlight Shanalotte was able to evoke, he appreciated it in a way, knowing it was his, a part of him unique to him. The dark was another aspect of himself, some immutable feature of his being, just as immutable as Shanalotte’s draconic heritage, her sculpted, carefully molded status as a Fire Keeper.

Shanalotte looked back at Izuku as he trailed behind her and Brent wondering what sort of thoughts he was having about the day thus far. She had indeed found the day’s activities thus far… interesting, the large metal room in which she and Izuku had been asked to demonstrate their abilities had been an odd experience, though not as painful, uncomfortable, and hurtful as that woman touching her body, asking her questions and prodding her. It had sent shivers through her body, she’d wanted to flee, she’d asked Izuku to send the woman away, and protested Brent’s pleading for her to calm down. It had been difficult for her to allow someone other than Izuku to touch her, to be so uncomfortably casual with her, she felt dirty in a way she had never felt before. She only had one thing in mind: return to Izuku’s mother’s home, settle in by her bonfire, and tend it, breathing in the warmth and resting near to Izuku, ideally with the sounds of the not so distant sea, the waves lapping against the shore filling the ambiance. She would have wholeheartedly desired to retreat to the forest with Izuku to rest like they had on their journey to this strange land, sadly such a thing was not possible as Japan seemed to be made solely of stone, metal and shore. She’d not even found a cove as of yet where she could seclude herself and Izuku away for an evening.

Falling back, Shanalotte carefully pulled off her glove and reached for Izuku’s hand, who took hers without a moment's glance. Normally, they would both be wearing gloves, hand wrappings, without them the act was far more intimate than usual. Izuku’s calloused hands were odd, touching her own softer hands, it was something Shanalotte personally had to not hold his hand too tightly, knowing that her claws could hurt him by accident - they had been able to scratch metal like a sword just earlier in the room. For both of them however, the skinship was a welcome change, something they’d never participated in before due to the openly dangerous nature of Drangleic. Both of them wordlessly agreed that although this world was immensely foreign, unfamiliar and dangerous because of that, or perhaps in spite of that, they wanted to be closer with one another, a mote of familiarity in the strange world.

Brent looked back at the two of them for a moment, as if inspecting them for a moment before smiling at them, continuing to lead them around the passageways of the city, leading them around and past a large black wall. [Does that look familiar?] Brent asked back to them.

[No] Izuku and Shanalotte agreed.

[Eraser said you popped out right over there] Brent explained, looking back at them.

[So that is the stone monument? What does it even stand for? Perhaps to some God?] Shanalotte questioned, [I have noticed icons of a man with yellow hair and toothy smile, perhaps a lord of the realm? A rather vain one if he pushes his people to display his face.]

[He and the one of fires both seem to dominate the displays I’ve seen, perhaps they are dual rulers of some sort? Twinned kings are odd though not unheard of, Straid was ruled by a trio of lords, the Twinned Kings and their beloved Queen.]

[Straid? I do not remember that kingdom] Shanalotte noted, tilting her head searching for an answer.

[It stood just before Drangleic.]

[What are you two talking about back there?] Brent interjected, interrupting their conversation. [Those are All Might and Endeavor, two heroes, regarded as some of the greatest, the Symbol of Peace and Paragon of Heroics.] Brent carried on, [in terms of ranking, All Might’s been number one for years while Endeavor has been one of the most determined and hard working heroes in the business since his debut.]

[Ranking?] Izuku asked, [how does one rank a king?]

[Why would the more powerful be anything but number one?] Shanalotte questioned, already having decided that she liked the fire man.

[Well, Endeavor isn’t stronger-]

[But he accomplishes more? Is that not a testament to his strength?] Shanalotte questioned as the group walked up to the black wall monument.

[Well, the ranking ain’t exactly based on strength, though All Might is probably stronger-]

[How? He does not even possess flames,] Shanalotte questioned, worried that the society would idealize someone who did not possess a purity of strength, a flame, no doubt pure as the old lords. Izuku too felt that for someone to be stronger than the hero Endeavor without possession of flames to be inconceivable. Both Izuku and Shanalotte understood the power flames would give to their holder, so for the supposed stronger hero, All Might, to lack them, then his strength, clearly, must have been brought about by some other source. Izuku could only think of one source capable of supporting such destructive power.

[It’s his quirk, he’s very strong] Brent explained simply.

[But what is the source of his strength?] Izuku questioned, desiring to find the hollow eyed, smiling man’s strength, to confirm for himself if it is as he thinks.

[Like I said Izuku, it’s his quirk, same as yours] Brent explained as they finished walking up to the wall.

[I am quirkless Brent, just as well, I know the source of my strength, just as well I know Shanalotte’s strength] Izuku explained, [so then, what exactly is the source of his strength?]

Brent shook his head as they came to a halt in front of the wall, [alright, well, I guess I don’t know, people don’t always like talkin’ ‘bout their quirks. Izuku, since we’re in the area, thought I’d show you this, a monument for those lost the day you went missing, one of the worst villain attacks in the nation’s history,the Black Downpour,] Brent elaborated, [officially, over 200 people died, with many of the survivors also having died.]

[How unfortunate] Shanalotte observed, [and how many peasants?]

[Excuse me?] Brent questioned as if confused by the question.

[She asked how many peasants died] Izuku clarified, [over 200 persons, but how many peasants?]

[That’s it, 200 people.]

[No peasants?] Shanalotte questioned.

[Are… are you saying peasants aren’t people?] Brent questioned, physically taken aback.

[Are you implying that peasants are people?] Izuku asked in return, [I’d not expect a higher classed person to be so considerate of the rabble.]

[We don’t live in a class system, did you think we live in a classist system?]

[Is that not how heroes have such rights?] Izuku questioned, [you stated that peasants are not allowed to use their so called quirks, and yet heroes are - that is a clear division, a clear upper and lower class. Nobles, elites, and the rest.]

[So then Brent, if you’ve not removed the peasants from the number of deaths, how many persons really died? How many heroes died then?] Shanalotte questioned, finishing the thought of her original question.

[People died, not nobles, not elites, not peasants, people] Brent maintained in spite of the question, [people died kids.]

Izuku stared impassively at Brent’s condemnation of the class based world he knew, or perhaps it was the apathy he felt for the meager loss of life. He’d been at Oolacile when all of it’s residents perished after unearthing that old crypt, thousands perished as the dark crept up from below, hundreds of knights perished in the prolonged battle to contain the waves of corrupted peasants. Even the great Wolf Knight, the Abysswalker fell in his battle against the dark, only succeeding in sealing away the creature with his dying breath. The solution of the gods was to send a pet to consume is all, sealing away the darkness within the belly of a dragon stolen away and raised as little more than a tool for disposing of the trash. That was only one example Izuku could think of on how the loss of life was insignificant.

Shanalotte too was thinking about how pedestrian the loss of a mere 200 persons, peasants included, lives was, herself having watched nearly 300 kingdoms rise and fall on the same spot. She herself had sent and caused perhaps millions of deaths, with hundreds of thousands of failed monarchs struggling forward only to fail. Apathy regarding the deaths of such short-lived persons held no significance for Shanalotte. To say that she cared about the loss of life of some peasants would be a lie, for the duration of time that she existed, she could only count 305 individuals whose “lives” she found important, even then, Izuku was the only living member of those 305, with Duke Aldia being the only other “living” “person” she cared about. Even between the two, Izuku ranked above the Duke in terms of importance given the latter had given her to the former. Yes, the Duke was the “person” who created her, but he’d given her to Izuku after falling into despair with the completion of the 303rd cycle.

Between the two of them, both found concern over a measly number of deaths as pointless, especially if there were peasants included in the death count. The deaths of several hundred persons was a drop in the metaphorical bucket to them, for both of them, a mere 200 deaths was something both had witnessed or experienced to the point of apathy over such insignificance. 

[On this wall, the names of every single person who died in the incident is inscribed, a testament to the tragedy, the loss of life-] both Izuku and Shanalotte willingly tuned out the ongoing explanation of the monument, the significance, the whole incident. The only interesting thing to them was the description of the “villains” which sounded akin to something Izuku had encountered during his passing through Oolacile during the disaster which occurred there.

After a short gesture by Brent, the trio continued on their walk, with Brent pulling out his device for some purpose. He did not attempt to speak to the pair any longer, perhaps having noticed how his incessant prattling had all been in vain. The trio continued on their walk, Shanalotte noting the pathway they tread being not completely dissimilar to the ones which brought them to the police station. Izuku could not tell the difference, all of the buildings seemed the same, all the passages seemed the same to him, too many roads traveled to be bothered to remember any single one.

Izuku and Shanalotte kept an eye on their surroundings as Brent led them down busier and busier streets, reaching an open space next to one of the elevated locations where the elongated metal creatures, trains, crawled along the rails like a living cart. Shanalotte was first to spot Inko approaching the trio, even before Brent had noticed the green haired woman, who greeted them, her arms laden with bags, the contents of which Shanalotte could not definitively identify - though she smelled meat. Thinking a bit more on it, Shanalotte decided she was rather hungry, and decided to voice it immediately.

[Brent, I am hungry.]

[I too could use some food, may we go hunting?]

[Your mother has food in her bags.]

[Wait, you can see Inko? Where is she? I can’t see her in the crowds] Brent asked looking around, confusion evident. [Guess you really do have a pretty dang good set of senses] he muttered. [Ah, there she is] Brent noted before calling out to her in Japanese.

The two appeared to start a nice conversation, with Inko pulling out a pair of devices from a small bag explaining something to him. They were small, palm sized at most, which unfolded into the shape of an eight, the lower circle had a few buttons on it while the top appeared to be of the same sort as the picture box Inko watched in the evening where people would appear and speak, as though a tiny theater was held within its walls. Something which Inko said brought a smile and a few giggles to Brent as he took one of the devices and a small knife in order to carve something into the lower portion of the device. The two continued to chat, a comment made by Brent causing Inko to pull back slightly, her cheeks turning rosy as though he’d said something embarrassing, only for her to turn around and offer a comment which had a similar effect on Brent.

Something about the display bothered Izuku and Shanalotte, who looked at one another, a silent conversation occurring, both attempting to figure out what exactly was happening between the two who served as their only connections to this world, this Japan. To be fair to Brent and Inko, who were continuing their conversation, Izuku and Shanalotte were very much out of their element, and the strangeness of the culture was still a difficult gap for them to parse. Even Shanalotte, who prided herself on having superior abilities in understanding other cultures, other people, was largely at a loss with the people of Japan.

Brent soon turned around to hand the pair the devices, they were green and round little things, which to Izuku was reminiscent of the scales from the original half dragon, though tinted green to a color not dissimilar to dying grass, to Shanalotte they were more akin to scales she’d seen during her meandering through the castle of Drangleic, devices used to measure and weight things: balances. Both quickly began to inspect the devices, flipping them open naturally, and staring at the buttons on the lower half of the device. There were four of them: Mom, GN Dad, Police, and Izuku/Shana. Izuku could guess what the device was meant for, they seemed to be akin to soapstones. Shanalotte however, was completely lost on how the device was meant to function or what function it could even serve. 

[Izuku, Shanalotte, these are phones, if you ever are in trouble, you can call me by pressing the GN Dad button] Brent explained, lowering himself to their level, which was appreciated, he was a bit taller than both of them. [If you need to talk to Inko you can press the Mom button, and if you ever need the police, well, you can press that button for them - but let's hold off on that until you know Japanese, okay?]

[And the button which bears Izuku’s name?] Shanalotte questioned.

[I have a button which bears the name of Shana, I do not know anyone by that name.]

[If you press that button you can call one another, why don’t you give it a try?] Brent suggested.

The experience of hearing one another’s voice through the small device was interesting to say the least. Shanalotte questioned the need to be able to contact Izuku if they were standing right next to one another, the proposed reason of them being apart insufficient to her - it was simply outside of her expectations. Izuku though was a bit more understanding of the reason to give them the devices, the odds of him getting lost was entirely possible, his difficulty with directions being a real and known issue for him. His question regarding the identity of “Shana” was also eventually explained, or rather, the explanation that Inko could not say Shanalotte’s name, or had difficulty with saying her full name, either way, he understood and would almost agree that the nickname of Shana could be considered “cute,” he found it a slightly poorer stand in for the beautiful name bestowed to his Emerald Herald.

Soon thereafter, the group boarded one of the large metal constructs, trains as they were repeatedly called, in order to return back to Inko’s home, their tasks in the highly populated area having been completed. It was mid afternoon by the time the group disembarked from the large metal beasts, by Izuku’s estimation, it must have been nearing time for the final meal of the day, which would be more than welcome given the dismal meal offered by Brent and the strangely dressed persons before the invasion of privacy, the “medical exam.”

Exiting the long metal beast, the train, Izuku breathed a sigh of relief as the day appeared to be winding down appropriately with the soon setting of the sun. Shanalotte herself was exhausted by the day's events, leaning on her savior in an overly forward display of trust, which drew the ire of Inko and to a lesser extent Brent. She knew Izuku would not mind it, though it pained her that he’d not accepted her, she did appreciate that he’d allowed her many permissions with regards to closeness, appeasing her desire for him to accept her. Shanalotte was still holding his hand, though she’d been forced to readjust as her claws had scratched Izuku slightly. Slightly was a bit of an understatement granted, he did bleed from her claws, but such minor wounds would hardly constitute any cause for alarm.

[Are you well Shanalotte? You look positively famished, starved even] Izuku asked of the half-dragon as the pair trailed behind Inko and Brent.

[The meat…] Shanalotte mindlessly replied, [I hunger for it.] Shanalotte eyed the bag Inko was carrying which contained the scent of meat, raw, succulent, and delicious meats. [Those grains were unimpressive, unfulfilling, left me with desire for more] Shanalotte complained, [do you think she’d mind giving me the meat now?]

[I cannot say, I’ve not seen another person eating while on our journey save for stood in groups, ner’ moving.]

[Then the peasants do not eat while moving, but what of the elites and nobles?] Shanalotte questioned, deciding to speak up, [Brent, tarry a moment, I’d like something to eat, could you ask Inko for a morsel of meat?]

Brent nodded to her question, speaking briefly with Inko before shaking his head a bit, [she’ll cook you somethin’ when we get back to her home.] Shanalotte nodded solemnly, holding back her hunger for a while longer, though she wasn’t pleased.

[Disappointing] Izuku stated, voicing Shanalotte’s feelings. He tugged the taller woman forward as she slowed down taking in the information. They continued onward, turning and walking down the streets towards the home of Izuku’s mother, Brent and Inko carrying on a conversation in Japanese, polite chuckles occurring sporadically, as though both were fluent in humorisms which brought about a levity neither Izuku nor Shanalotte were intimately familiar with.

A shift occurred between Inko and Brent, a sudden pause, both voices becoming more low and serious. The color drained from the ears of Inko, and Brent’s body stiffened slightly, neither change in the persons was missed by Shanalotte, though both were lost on Izuku. The pair of Inko and Brent slowing did however cause Izuku to notice the physiological issues of whatever conversation the pair were suffering from. Izuku observed, [Brent, is my mother quite well? She has slowed, just as well the dragging of her feet gives a hollowed impression.]

Brent continued to speak with Inko in a hushed tone, ignoring the question for a moment before turning back to them, for a moment, then back to Inko. There was a worried look in his eyes, and uncertainty which not even Izuku could have missed. Something was amiss, something had occurred to cause some distress to the pair of which neither Izuku nor Shanalotte were aware. [Well, you see kids, uh, the cleaner’s come over today, and Inko was just a bit worried.]

[Cleaner? As in a chambermaid?] Shanalotte questioned, [or some other form of servant? I fail to see the issue.]

[If that is the case, then I truly do not see issue with any such person perusing…] Izuku started trailing off, [would they launder our belongings?] His voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke, Shanalotte had seen and knew this emotion of his well, and felt it herself at times, though she knew not the word for it. She released his hand, knowing what was likely to happen in the moment of truth when Brent delivered news of what works the “Cleaner” would do.

Brent’s lack of an answer spoke volumes.

* * *

Izuku did not pause at the guilty look Brent gave him, thankful to Shanalotte that she’d relinquished hold over his hand, breaking from the group and charging towards the domicile of his mother. He’d been assured none would molest his belongings, and yet, this world, this Japan seemed completely intent upon molesting all that he saw as his own. First they had stolen and sealed his rapier, their diatribe about the threat to the peasantry being acceptable given the floundering moral fabric of this odd land giving him reason enough to allow it. He had been accepting enough, he would still have access to his miracles and sorceries. Second this detestable world’s very makeup refused his strengths, refused to bend to his will such that he could even enact his sorceries to accomplish deeds which could be seen as pedestrian in Venheim’s Dragon Academy where he earned the ire of fellows. Third, the lie of Brent, the souring note of being removed even from his catalysts, making him defenseless all in order to play some jester’s role in that metal room where they were watched over as animals. Nay, even animals would be fed meat if they were prized for their might, which Brent had implied this world’s nobles to value in himself and Shanalotte, he was given woeful grain, an insult as though the nobles saw him as a member of the rabble, as worthless as a petulant creature who might raid livestock. Fourth, the final insult he would pardon, was the molestation of himself and Shanalotte, their trite excuse to touch their bodies, strip them bare and prod with their devices had shown Izuku this world’s false dignity, had shown him their lack of restraint, lack of cordialness towards foreigners. It infuriated him to see the discomfort in his companion, and had it not been for Brent’s begging, he would have shown the woman inspecting his Shanalotte as though she were some piece of meat the back of his hand and bottom of his boot.

This final insult would not pass without retribution, without rightful reimbursement on behalf of the ignorant servant who might molest the last pure objects he held within Japan. Such was the thought on his mind as he moved quickly towards the door of Inko’s home, slipping and falling to his hands and knees a moment, cutting into his palms in an unimpressive way and possibly injuring his legs below the heavy stitched dungarees, or “Jean” as Brent called them. Undeterred by his fall, Izuku continued forward, crashing through the door with a shoulder led charge, sending a stinging pain through his arm as he barreled towards the table upon which he’d left his clothes, his staff, his chimes.

Gone.

Banging through the drawers, closets and bins, it was his clothes he found first. Wrapped up in an uncaring way, stowed in a bin where scraps of food would be tossed, treated as though it were a piece of rubbish. Bending over the bin, and carefully extracting his garb, it tore to the touch. His heart stilled as the ever so fragile remains of his hood were lifted from the bin. His breathing quickened as he stared, dead eyed at the fragments of the intricately patterned gray and black hood, holes from long years of use and enhancement torn through and enlarged until the thing was barely recognizable. Donning the remnants of the destroyed article, he dug out the shredded remains of his cloak, mere tatters left of the garb which had protected him from the flames of chaos, the corrupting influence of his own magic’s origin, the burning light of those damned detstible deviants which corrupted the works of the old gods toward their own interpretation.

A slow and steady breath falls from his lips as tears did in companion. Some forbidden words flitted in the forefront of his mind, speaking to his tongue as he uttered the tones and sounds of another world, and the world listened, the dominion of the tale he began to weave impressing even here. Bringing his face into the filthy tatters of the last gift afforded to him by his first friend in that other world, his first teacher, the man who saved him from a life of destitution and mourning, wallowing in self pity and doubt. The words he spoke into that cloak were unknowable, unspeakable things which were in themselves foreign even to the entities which might have studied such things. Words of Serpents long departed the world, meddlers and creatures born with the first flame and it’s dying. A haze of fury, of sadness, of grief and despair washed over Izuku leaving in their wake and unearthly calmness manifesting through the madness, the insanity, and the apathy of the magical tales woven and intermingled with the origin. Bringing his eyes from the bundle of his shredded memories, Izuku reached out through the room, the tolling of his chimes echoed through out, the staff flew from a hidden place to his hand, the planetary model spinning rapidly, the cold metal body of the rod pulsing with power as the intoned magic spills from the catalyst. Dull grey sprites of haze and shadow burst forth from the model, the sentient fragments of Izuku’s own spirit drawing into and around Izuku, draping themselves around his body as a new cloak of haze and abyssal sprites for a moment before sealing into him. His vision narrowed and body ached, as his blood boiled under his skin, the corners of his vision, already reduced by the haze, grew darker and blacker as his skin grew cold.

Rising up, Izuku took care with placing the tatters on the ground next to him as he ventured forth, determined to exact revenge on those who would trample upon his goodwill, upon his things, molesting, defacing, **destroying** that which was his and his alone. Walking through the house, feet stomping upon the wooden floors which creaked and bruised under his boot, he sought out the “Cleaner” who had offended him, the servant he would teach a lesson. 

There, stood in the rear of the house’s yard, stood an oddly dressed woman tending to a clothesline upon which rested Shanalotte’s emerald cloak, swaying gently in the afternoon sunlight. Staff in hand, he stalked towards her, making no attempt to shroud himself, not attempting to hide his intent in beating the woman who’d gone on to tend towards some flowers. His eyes pulsed with energy, his pupils lost in the haze which surrounded his body, wisps of sprites dancing around him, only beat back by the streams of sunlight piercing the haze. 

Stood behind the wench, he clears his throat to get the woman’s attention, who does indeed turn to him, a smile plastered across her face, asking some inane question in Japanese, a question which would never be answered. She stands taller than Izuku, though not taller than his staff which she points to and speaks on. “You” Izuku directed, pointing to the clothes, the learning of the singular Japanese word coming in handy. The woman nodded, as though completely unaware of the destruction she’d wrought upon his and Shanalotte’s equipment, carefully made and blessed both by magic and miracle, the natural forms of the items polluted by her foul attempt at laundering items never meant to be laundered. So innocent, so sure of herself, sure that she had done no wrong.

Izuku exhaled a stream of breath, made visible by the surrounding haze, and in the next moment, had slammed the woman into the ground, stomping her face into the earth which gave way, blowing a wind of grass and blood from the woman’s head. A burning breath filled his lungs, escaping in a strangled growl which slowly grew towards a beastly roar, his elongated canines glistening in the sunlight, his eyes trailing a murderous green line on the back of the woman. Bending over, he jammed his rod into the ground next to the woman’s head, embedding the catalyst into the earth.

Dropping down on her, knee firmly placed into her back, his scarred, left hand reeled back as he desired to pound this woman into the earth further, spreading the contents of her head into the grasses that he might feed them to Shanalotte. Before he could let loose a strike which would have crushed the woman’s head, his hand was stopped, held back by the soon to be identified Brent. An intoning of a miracle regarding the vows of the sunlight princess evoked a pulse of light which banished away his own, sending the haze and sprites from his body and back to the pit of his strength within his soul, Shanalotte’s doing.

{O’ Savior, still your hand and heart, mind your temper and temper your mind, do not forget yourself lest you fall to that thing you dreaded. Bearer of the contract for mine life, fall not, or your right to refuse will be unmade} Shanalotte spoke to him, using the very language of the lords themselves to remind him of his position, to remind him of himself and his others’ fate.

He began to consider her point, drawing upon the reasons why tempering himself would be for the best, instead of teaching the wench her place. He was in a foreign land, and he’d not properly met this person before, the possibility of her being of import had been lost in his fury, in his hurry. Making foes of this woman’s family would be a mistake. Making foes while he did not possess his full abilities would be a mistake. Making foes while his connection to a Bonfire would spell a true death. There was no certainty in what would befall him beyond the veil of life. Elites existed, as did hollows, but undead? He could not be absolutely certain as even E-Era’sir was not branded by the Darksign despite possessing the markings of an elite. He relinquished his attempt at ending the life of the woman, allowing himself to be pulled off of her by Brent.

Remorse, that would be the correct path to show her he’d made a mistake, and thus pulled a charm from a pouch he kept on him at all times. A Dragon Charm, given as dowry along with Shanalotte in hopes of forcing him to accept her wholly, they were unique and blessed items, small, not larger than a coin, yet filled with powerful healing magics, able to fully restore even the most wounded or persons in mere moments, expelling all poisons, toxins, and diseases in that same moment. It was this useful item which he pressed into the body of the woman. It was a rare thing, though he’d plenty, having come across the Amanain’s stockpile during his journey to the Far Fire with Shanalotte. [She will be healed fully, such is the purpose of this charm, thus, cease your fretting and aching] Izuku explained, tired and exhausted by the long day and desiring nothing more than to rest a while, a week at the most. The woman did rise up, still shaken, though not that Izuku could tell, he had no talent for reading people, that was Shanalotte’s talent.

[Izuku, just what the hell is your problem?] Brent exclaimed as Inko tended to the woman.

* * *

Shanalotte inspected her clothes as she sat on the couch next to Izuku. They were softer, smelled strongly of flowers, the leathers of her padded shirt had been shined, returning to their milky white appearance, the same clean colors they’d held when she was gifted with the genuine articles. Unfortunately, she could tell from the touch, that they’d lost some aspect of their mystic charm, the blessings etched into the leathers having been lost due to some mistake in the process of cleaning. It indeed did sadden her, though was monumentally happy that she still possessed her feather and cord, that she’d not left them behind, fear of the “Cleaner” disposing of the feather as she’d done to Izuku’s clothing.

The “Cleaner” had done some special work to Izuku’s chimes, having scrubbed away all of the oxidation on the wire frame, hanging the set of chimes up on the wall as decor rather than a catalyst for miracles. They were now clearly made of brass or bronze, with intricate designs and inlaid patterns both on the wire frame and on the chimes contained within the shield-like body. Izuku had initially fretted over the loss of the aged surface, the greenish oxidation, fearing that the loss would affect the quality of the catalyst. Such fears were not unfounded, though they were unproven given how he was on “timeout.”

The only items the two of them still possessed in an unchanged form were their boots and her feather, as long as the attached cord of red leather, all others had been touched, changed, and, if one were to ask Izuku, ruined.

Izuku had calmed at least a bit, or more accurately, he’d gotten tired, exhausted more like, his eyes dull once more, lidded, and his head resting heavy in his hands as he sat dejectedly. The act of casting his magics finally having caught up with him, the physical, mental, and spiritual toll leaving him emptied of his energy. That was hyperbole, Izuku was well aware he could invoke more magics, though, as he’d already realized, the potential lack of an ability to revive after death would put a hold on any further casting. Yes, it was possible for him to cast additional magics upon the world, however, the prospect of magics eating away at his body, at his spirit would run the risk of unmaking him, of corrupting him as had many primordials who’d touched the first flame.

Shanalotte could recognize his exhaustion, and thusly offered herself to him as was tradition. In keeping with tradition, he also refused her, instead accepting her words instead of her body. Shanalotte expected this, she’d offered herself to him hundreds if not thousands of times during their journey, his answer always the same, a refusal of her, and acceptance of a service. The service of telling him sweet, soothing words which appealed his very being, a consequence of having touched the origin of his existence. His weak flame which had grown in time, eventually growing until it could match a number of monarchs.

So they rested as loud noises approached, whirling screams which wore on both of their minds, sending pains through their heads. An indeterminate period of time passed as the pair suffered in silence, the sounds began to abate, earning a passing glance from Izuku and Shanalotte, the sight they were treated to being something they’d as of yet been unable to confirm.

A Hollow.

An empty eyed, shrunken man whose bones were visible through his unfulfilled body, the flame of his body not appearing through his eyes. His face formed a perpetual frown, and the whole of his body seemed decrepit, even his hair, despite still possessing a vibrant tone of color, drooped and flopped down ungracefully. He appeared hunched over, dragging his feet ever so slightly, evidencing his only recently having turned Hollow, the losing of his mind, the emptying of his spirit and loss of sense, surrendering to the Darksign. Such was the fate of any who had been stricken with the accursed Darksign, with the impure Humanity.

A Hollow. A being who’d lost the last of their sense, becoming nothing more than a shambling husk, insanity gaining dominance over the remnants of their minds. A sad fate for any Hollow as they became a shell of their former selves.

Being approached by such a being was not uncommon, and there was but a single proper response to Hollows, putting them out of their misery. Neither of the pair held any reservations regarding killing Hollows, though generally, Shanalotte’s method was preferred. A prayer offered to the Hollow, appeasing them and allowing their spirit to leave the corrupted, malformed flesh. It was however, a lengthy process to invoke the miracle, such was why Izuku gripped his staff, intending to force out one additional invocation of Promised Walk of Peace, willing to run the low chance of some corruption. Last time had grown his canines, turning them into fangs, the time before that dulled his eyes, before that… Izuku didn’t remember the effects before that, too long had passed, maybe it was some effect he couldn’t recall, maybe even cause for his missing memories, either way, one more dip into the corruption would be worth protecting Shanalotte.

Rolling over the couch, Izuku brought up his staff as he began reciting the abridged, weaker form of his miracle in order to slow and stay the Hollow, wisps of the dark pulsing free from the planetary model which began spinning rapidly. A pulse of haze burst forth from the catalyst, settling around the group, Izuku confident that his magic would encumber and slow the Hollow’s approach. Whether or not the spell had any effect did not turn out to be of import as the pulse of light dispelled the haze, the prayer of Shanalotte finished, a wave of light cleansing and forcing the Hollow’s spirit to leave it’s destroyed, corrupted corpse.

A swift chop was delivered to both Izuku and Shanalotte’s head by an obviously upset Brent, who roared at the pair [WHAT IN TARNATION ARE YOU TWO BOZOS DOING? USING YOUR QUIRKS, I TOLD YA THAT WAS ILLEGAL!]

Izuku blandly rubbed his head, confused for a plethora of reasons, not limited to the attack made on him by Brent, the fact that an act of hostility was possible confused him almost as much as Shanalotte’s prayer being resisted by the Hollow. [Tis a Hollow, a being devoid of senses, better to slay it than suffer the chance of it harming us, the dosil nature is a ploy] Izuku calmly retorted.

[Indeed, though I am confused by his resistance to appeasement] Shanalotte agreed, [Hollows are ner’ to be trusted lest you intend on gambling your life.]

[Izuku, Shanalotte, this] Brent scolded, directing their attention to the Hollow, [is Mr. Yagi, a weak and sick man who is here because you, Izuku, decided to assault your mother’s cleaner. Specifically, it’s because the police have gotten involved.] Brent continued with his scolding, pausing and taking a breath, turning to the Hollow, speaking something in Japanese, and forcing Izuku to bow his head, which was a difficult thing for the man.

A cough and spray of blood spurted from the Hollow’s mouth, Izuku leaping backwards over the couch and using it as cover, fearing the blood was some agent of attack, a not unheard of feature for Hollows to possess. [If these two speak English, it is fine if we do as well] the man explained drawing out a handkerchief from his garish yellow suit to wipe the blood from his mouth, [I am Toshinori Yagi, case handler for Inko Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugou, pleased to meet you, may I have your names young man, young lady?] A name? A proper name? For a Hollow to remember their proper name would entail the maintenance of mind. Shanalotte considered if that was the reason her prayer for him had failed, his mind was strong enough to deny the inherent desire of passing on. Izuku recognized some aspects of the name this Hollow spoke, not just his mother’s name, but the other name also wrapped on the door of a memory.

The Hollow offered a hand to Izuku and Shanalotte, neither of whom were willing to take. Trusting a Hollow, even should they be speaking, is never a passable and permissible action. All Hollows held some animosity, held some destructive fiber of their spirit. [Tis ner’ wise to offer one’s hand to a Hollow, though your ability to speak is impressive, I’ll offer my name willingly, I am Izuku Midoriya, son of Inko Midoriya.]

[If you will offer your name… I am Shanalotte] a pause, [Midoriya, creation of the Scholar of the First Sin.]

[You are both Midoriyas?] The Hollow questioned, [well, it is nice to meet you both-]

[Do not speak Hollow, meeting you is only permissible by the sophomoric rules of this kingdom] Izuku spat.

[We aren’t a kingdom anymore Izuku] Brent offered, [don’t pay them too much mind, Izuku and Shanalotte were both held by villains for the last decade, only popped up in the last week, they haven’t an ounce of common sense, they don’t even know not to use their quirks.]

[We don’t have quirks] Izuku and Shanalotte retorted in time.

[You both definitely have quirks] Brent maintained, a twinge of frustration appearing as a twitch of his eyebrow, [in fact, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you two had multiple quirks your abilities are so varied.]

[Multiple quirks?] the Hollow commented, the nonexistent color further draining from his sunken and plaid cheeks. [W-well, that is certainly good news for you two, having such strong quirks.]

[Silence Hollow, I’ll not be patronized by a mere fragment of the Dark, a childish fetus of the abyss made manifest] Izuku lambasted. [Shanalotte, please offer him another rite to send his spirit on; interesting as a speaking Hollow be, I’m no longer willing to care.]

[I shall, O’ Savior] Shanalotte agreed, beginning a second prayer over her feather, only being stopped by another chop from Brent, which did not even give her a stutter or shake in her prayer.

[Shanalotte, I told you not to use yer quirk] Brent complained, attempting to place his hand on her head, only for Izuku to place himself between Brent and Shanalotte, [Izuku, please don’t be difficult.]

[I would kill even you Brent should you attempt harm on Shanalotte] Izuku growled, a bit of light returning to his eyes, the planetary model beginning to spin once more, [if you trust that Hollow so much, then back off, I’ll not pull a punch.]

[It’s fine Mr. Hickok, really, there’s no need for any big commotion] the Hollow placated, [though I would appreciate it if the young lady didn’t attempt to hurt me with her quirk.] The Hollow held up his hands in a gesture to show harmlessness, passivity, even taking a step back, eyes closed, a considerable show of sense, even for a Hollow. It gave Shanalotte an ounce of pause as she finished her prayer, invoking the light of appeasement once more.

[I do not see why we should trust you Hollow, even if you possess sense, even if you resist my prayer once more.]

[That is surprising, though I’ll not believe in the foolishness of the Hollow, they rarely possess any such bounds. I recall that one saying he’d pilfer the goods from tricked clerics, pushing them into holes and prisons.]

[Which? Trusty Patches? The Hyena, the spider, or the unbreakable? All of those fiends had lost their mind enough to be worthy of calling Hollows] Shanalotte questioned, momentarily leaving the tension behind. [I forget myself, Mr. Hollow, leave this place, your mind is not long and you’d best be gone as if my appeasement fails, then your death will not be so painless.]

[You two…] Brent groaned, putting a hand to his face.

[Excuse me young lady, it is not exactly nice to threaten someone with death, if I weren’t such a considerate person, I do believe I might have reason to involve the police.]

[Please don’t Mr. Yagi] Brent pleaded standing between the two sides, [they’re just kids, and dumbass ones at that, they’ve got no clue how to function.]

[I understand, you said they were raised by villains?]

[I was born as I am.]

[I was raised by Sweet Shalquior for a time] Izuku commented, [that cat was no villain, she was a cat.]

[What in the hell are you two talking about?] Brent asked a confused look on his face, turning around on the point, shaking his head, [they’re half crazy Mr. Yagi, we’ll be working on that, honest to god.]

[I wasn’t planning to hold them to it, a bit of hurt feelings does hurt yes, but no real harm done, I’m not so thin skinned Mr. Hickok.] The Hollow replied with a weak and unsightly pleasant smile. [If we can just get over the explanation and report on the assault on Ms. Kimi, then I’ll be on my way.] 

Izuku gazed distrustfully at the Hollow whose continued speaking, continued sense of self and preservation, he was one to watch, a clever beast who had some goal, some desire which was surely against the desire of those who still possessed sense. Shanalotte was a bit more inquisitive, an idea forming on her mind, the thought of this presumed Hollow merely being some sort of deformed man, not unlike the stories of the brother of the Witches of Izalith. There was a chance, however small, for him to be a normal undead and not a Hollow.

The Hollow nodded, walking off a bit to speak with others in the area, leaving the trio of Izuku, Shanalotte, and Brent. Izuku was the first to speak, [are you certain that Hollow will not cause trouble?]

[Are you certain you won’t cause trouble?] Brent sassed.

[We’ve done nothing wrong Brent, only what any intelligent person might do when faced with a Hollow] Shanalotte remarked, [it would be like ignoring a hungry pig, inviting catastrophe, death, and pain.]

[Why a pig?]

[They are devastating creatures] Izuku shivered, a few dozen experiences still flashing in his mind, old scars of his early days in the lands of the Far Flame, [though also tasty.]

[Unlike Hollows, their decayed meat is also so lacking… which reminds me Brent, did you not promise to offer us food upon our return here? I am still quite hungry.]

Brent did not answer them as he too walked off, following in the footsteps of the Hollow, leaving the two alone in the mainroom both frowning now reminded of their hunger for food.

Not long after the many people who’d descended upon the home were sent off, Hollow included, with news that Brent’s guardianship over the pair being expedited even further, as well as the pair being officially added to the case regarding the Hollow, Mr. Yagi. Furthermore, news that Brent would, in less than a weeks time, be purchasing a long term lodging in the area for the expressed purpose of further watching over Izuku and Shanalotte due to the incident. Izuku and Shanalotte both did receive a lecture regarding their actions, both in assaulting the woman and attempting to kill the Hollow. The meal that evening was held in near silence, all parties exhausted, Brent only offering words of farewell after the meals conclusion, departing in the night, leaving the three Midoriyas to their home.

Inko spoke to her device, the translation to the common tongue coming through a moment later, [Izuku, I’ll sleep out here with Shana tonight, okay?]

Despite ample protest from both Izuku and Shanalotte, they were forced to accept Inko’s terms, resulting in Izuku sleeping alone in his mother’s bed, Shanalotte and Inko kept in the main room. It pleased neither Izuku nor Shanalotte to be kept apart in the night. Though Shanalotte could sleep on command, Izuku could not, and a fear of death in his sleep was something he’d not grown accustomed to, giving rise to troubles sleeping he’d not suffered since meeting his mentor, and never experienced while traveling with Shanalotte.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 was supposed to cover another ~15 pages of outline, but was cut "short" because I (Greatmouse) was suffering from burn out on writing the same, long format chapter. 20K is long enough i think, and yet this is 27K words. Not used to this length of work.


	4. Chapter 4

Beams of gentle light wafted slowly downwards, peering through the perpetual mid-morning haze of the world, streaking through the cover of a forestry and glittering upon the perpetually fresh dew which rested upon worn stonework interspersed with weeding growths of all sorts. Telling that this pathway had been abandoned by the rulers of the land hundreds if not thousands of years prior, the worn work of stone chipped and yet also smoothed over by the coursing rain fall of each cycle’s path. A figure, clad in worn leathers, no taller than a woman, pushed through a bramble of bushes, stumbling and falling down a short hill, tumbling and dropping down to the stone path which was framed by lines of gnarled trees and freshly born grasses. Their body came to a stop on the stony path a beam of light illuminating the gleam of a short sword strapped to their side haphazardly, as though they had never used the weapon, a pack on their back rattles as they recover from the spill, a slow process as the figure staggers back to their feet, stopping to inspect the stonework and surroundings. 

A gloved hand clenched as they look back to the eternally rising sun in the east, seeing a fortress they’d carefully traveled around, the border fort filled with basilisks and corruptions of the human form, disease laden beings with hungry eyes and split jaws which sagged down to their already sagging, bloated stomachs which flopped back and forth like the plump little piglets who scared those who’d seen them and faced them. A pair of green eyes looked and tried to spot anything they might remember about the structure which had been told to them, though knew only to travel west through the woods to reach the destination where that which they sought might be found, or a mote at least.

Craning their head and working out a strain, the figure pulled and prodded at their cloaked neck until a satisfying pop sounded, and a groan of pain filled the ambiance of trees, insects, rodents scurrying in the underbrush and a bird. Never birds, always only one. Swallowing back the discomfort, the figure turns their head back to the west, back to their destination where they would find what they sought at the wall of the sea and border of the fallen kingdom, filled with the corpses of other beings who were native to the world but not to the lands they inhabited. Trodding upon the worn stone path, the figure kept one hand on their shortsword, their head swiveling continuously, looking for any such disturbance which might spell their end in a mere moment of hesitance.

It was the third or perhaps thirtieth time they’d arrived at the current path upon which they trode, it was hard to keep track when everything was unchanging save for splatters of blood which washed away every time they returned to this place, and every time they were forcibly removed. A great stone archway blocked the path forward, a wall of fog spilling out from the passage, blocking entrance and egress to all who dared touch the water like fog which dispelled sense and stored magics which confused the mind. It was at the base of one such gate of fog the figure paused, drawing out their weapon in reaction to some malevolent force beyond the gate, taunting them, leering at them as had countless other such entities including their tutor.

This time however, rather than rushing towards the gate, the figure paused, inspecting the stonework and carefully looking over the wall before ingressing into the forest beyond. This time, they search for something, a gift said to be left here by some otherworldly voice which whispers in their ear every so often, driving them towards some other point, or giving them some other idea which rarely offers anything more than a mere distraction from the path ahead. Walking along the archway, the roots and bushes conceal something which gives the figure a instantaneous pause - the rotten decayed and desiccated corpse of another man, his hollow, glazed over eyes dry and shriveled, gazing at the figure with a slacked open jaw which seemed to be screaming eternally. This is what they were told they would find, this is what they were looking for, a corpse, stabbed to the ground with a spear whose shaft had decayed much the same as the body, and on that corpse, a charm made of pure silver, round with two tails like springs flowing back from the ornate front plate.

Thus the figure returned to the fog wall, pensively pushing a gloved hand through the thick magic and pressing open a gate into the beyond of the veil, stepping into the haze which seeped into their mind as they passed through, disorienting them for a moment before emerging through the other side in a permanently hazy wood, the thick fog of the door a trend matched by the forest before them. Their destination was still a ways off however, so they did not dawdle, stepping without confidence ahead, paranoia of the creatures hidden in the mist striking at him once more. The sound of leaves and twigs crunching under their boots filled the ambiance as the bird crowed at their passing through the forest of haze, earning a look about and seeing some faint movement of one of the creatures in the mist.

They’d been found quickly this time, and swallowed back as they stilled in the woods, breathing slowly as the sounds of the creatures of the mist passed around him without notice of their now silent body. Their heart pounded in their chest as one of the creatures, ethereal beings with blades that were anything but stalking the woods in search of a certain being which they’d not and possibly would never find. Gazing out into the haze, the figure could not see a single creature as it passed by, the only telling sign that they’d moved being the sound of their jittering and clicking tongues, speaking a language foreign to the figure and his mentor, some tribal or other such thing from a civilization long dead who's stalking rogues continued to haunt and hunt the forest shaded in haze and disorienting fogs.

The figure remained still for an untold amount of time, standing still as a tree, holding their tongue and breath for the eerie silence to return once more to protect them from the terror the creatures in the mist held for those captured by their twisted forms invisible to the naked eye. A slow and unsteady breath passed through the nostrils of the figure as their eyes gazed out wards, looking down at their hand which still held the silver charm found upon the corpse, nodding at an invisible suggestion to break the item and evoke the magics stored therein.

A soothing tone filled the air as the silver tendrils broke from the back of the front plate, ancient golden magic spreading across the body of the figure, settling in on them and silencing the world around them, their body becoming invisible under the disguise of a tree which made no sounds in the world. Such was the magic of a silver charm such as this, the blend into the surroundings and disappear from those whose sense had long since departed. Taking an uneasy step forward, no sound was heard, not a stirring in the world told the figure what they’d been told already about the magics stored in charms of this sort. There would not be much time to find the path forward, the magic could only last so long, so they moved quickly, not minding the bush and underbrush as they walked along the walls hidden within the fog which seemed to abrupt jut out into the natural display as though the fortress still grew onwards despite the ancient forest growing here stopping the furthered construction of such things.

Putting a hand upon the wall helped, as not touching the wall made it difficult to even walk straight towards the goal of the figure, an overgrown device which would unseal the gate leading passage out of this shaded wood and back towards the destination though it would detour once more to the realm of the once mighty lion warriors, a race of barbarians whose avarice and pride had brought on an infestation of scorpions who stole the lives of countless lion warriors in their war. The figure knew not the way of the scorpions, only that should they attempt to speak to them, their own life would be forfeit - should they even stumble across the scorpions. 

Thinking on about the madness of the situation, the figure’s leather gloved hand caught hold of the iron portcullis of the path leaving the forested fortress, dancing their fingers along the bars until reaching the right side, a frown formed upon their face as a mass of foliage blocked access to the location of the lever which controlled the door, per their mentor’s instructions anyhow. Looking over their shoulder, the figure looked out for any sort of life before nodding and swallowing back another glob of fear which threatened to burst from their mouth. Drawing up their sword on high, they swung with all of their might at the intruding foliage, cutting back enough to unveil the lever which needed to be moved for the gate to release them from these gated and locked off woods.

[It is just as Sweet Shaliquar said,] the figure spoke in a hushed tone, reaching an arm and pulling on the lever which let out an ear splitting sound of metal grating on metal as the portcullis opened slowly, slowly enough that the figure was able to hear the sounds of the creatures of the mist turning back towards them and the gate which would allow exit. 

Placing their back against the gate, the figure kept and eye on the fog and haze, having seen the style of these foes enough times to block their first attack at the least, though it was equally likely for them to attack in such a way as to ensure the figure’s defeat and untimely demise. Breathing out slowly, the sight of a creature gazing through the haze alerted the figure to the immediate danger of their situation.

Glowing red eyes - an elite, a creature who’d feasted upon the essence of others in order to grow their own might to the point of becoming another sort of creature entirely, or at the very least, a creature faster, stronger and infinitely more dangerous compared to the common fare, which already was dangerous and ravenous enough to steal the life of any creature which wandered into these accursed woods filled with fog and madness. The heavy footfalls of the elite kept the figures focus kept entirely on the entity as it charged toward them, two options appearing in their head as the gate behind them continued to open slowly and audibly.

Bringing up their shortsword, the figure braced themselves as the heavy blade of the creature, nearly invisible slashed downwards towards them, impacting the blade and forcing the figure backwards, muscles tensed and burning as the weight of the attack nearly brought the defensive shortsword through the figure’s own head. A second strike shot out from the creatures, a kick aimed squarely at the figure’s chest impacted hard, throwing them back and knocking them to the ground, tumbling once more down the path, the wind knocked out of their chest and exposed to all the dangers of the world. 

Several choking, hard minutes passed as the figure continued to lay still on the ground, awaiting the inevitable swordfall which would end their life, only for no such thing to occur. Rolling onto their side, the figure looked back at the elite watching them from the gateway with hungry red eyes - why it did not pursue was a question the figure, nor his mentor understood, though, so little was understood about the world and how creatures born of the world’s own insanity functioned. Still though, the figure would not count their blessings yet, they were yet to find the place where they were told to rest, or rather, it was suggested they rest.

The cawing of the bird once more roused the figure as they got to their feet slowly, inspecting their weapon which had been nearly cut through by the blade of that ethereal being. It would be useless unless a blacksmith could be found to repair the weapon to a usable condition, and worse, a liability if it were to break fully at an inopportune moment, thus it was slid back into its sheath and stored at the figure’s side once more. They’d survived the most dangerous part of the journey thus far, or rather had succeeded in passing through the most obviously dangerous part of the winding path they would follow towards the far fortress where the mote they sought was hidden.

Looking around at their surroundings in the less hazy, less foggy forested section they found themselves in, they began trudging onwards towards their next goal, or rather the next landmark their mentor had told them to find on their path. A great mighty tree was their next objective, a great tree which screamed to the touch, driving away any beings lacking sense, the nature of the tree itself being impossible to understand and even more so foreign to the figure and their mentor, the latter of whom had supposedly witnessed all within the world since arriving at the dawn of the first age of Dark. Still though, the mentor’s own explanation of themselves was disatifying, no finality, not an ounce of certainty, as though they themselves had forgotten their origins, which would not be unusual.

Izuku had already forgotten how to speak his native language, instead speaking only the language of the common, and every time he failed, a bit more would disappear, another part of his memories would fade from his mind, replaced by the sting of death and melancholy of living in a world where death was a fact of life and common occurrence to some. It bothered Izuku, to an extent, though to say that would assume that Izuku fully understood it, or was able to recognize the events occurring in the background as he slowly trudged deeper into the world he’d become lost and trapped in. Meeting Sweet Shaliquor had been a blessing, there would be no denying that meeting that creature who spoke with an accent and catty tongue was valuable in keeping his sanity as he grew slowly and surely through what to him felt like years, though could have been merely hours or even centuries. The flow of everything was confusing, such as why the sun never rose, nor set, nor moved, and yet the world did not change, as though time itself was unmoving, or perhaps moving around him at an imperceptibly slow pace.

Walking through the shaded wood, Izuku gazed and turned to each tree, looking for the first which seemed great enough to be his second objective in these woods which would guide his path to the fortress on the sea. The crunching of leaves underfoot filled the air around Izuku, these coming from other directions, namely behind him, and so he ran. There was no value to fighting these creatures, they were nearly impossible to perceive and injure, and yet they could injure him easily enough.

Weaving through the trees, Izuku scanned each tree quickly as he passed them by, with only a single one standing out to him, slowly twisting on the spot - not the exact tree he was looking for, but another one of the horrors which would scream when injured. Drawing out his broken shortsword, Izuku darted towards the tree, tripping forward over an errant root, mere feet from the tree he was plotting to wound. The creatures stalking him drew in, a projectile whizzing through the air and finding purchase in Izuku’s back, bouncing off by virtue of his protective breastplate, a gift he’d pillaged from another corpse on his journey. He did not stop after the solitary moment of security afforded to him by the metal armor wrapped around his body, scrambling back to his feet, kicking up leaves and twigs as he sprinted into the tree, plunging in his sword and breaking it off in the tree’s trunk.

A crying scream pierced the haze, and ripped through the forest, deafening Izuku as he slid down the tree trunk, hands pressed over his ears as the creatures following him flickered in the waves of sound, their bodies becoming visible for only a moment as they screamed in kind, fleeing backwards away from the source of the scream and Izuku both. They were humans, or perhaps once were, each adorned in dark tanned leathers and festive masks which Izuku could have sworn he’d seen broken in the basement of the mansion back at the far flame, each one surrounded by skeletons from which much of his clothing had once belonged. Still the scream did not cease, Izuku looking up at the wound he’d inflicted upon the tree which bled and festered like an open and infected wound, blood and strange yellow liquids seeping out from around the point where his shortsword’s point had been embedded. Pushing himself upright without uncovering his ears was no easy task, though it was done soon enough.

Abandoning his utterly useless and broken shortsword, Izuku got back to looking for the next path forward, the great tree which would dominate the wood and scream should he injure it too, though he would not have a sword of any sort, he did have on his person a few knives and bombs he’d scrounged together from various corpses he’d stumbled across during his travels. Still though, the loss of his sword would be felt should he face an enemy he could and would need to battle directly, even mere hollows could kill him should he not have a proper means of dealing with their crazed swinging blades which sought out those who still possessed some modicum of sense, and the power held within the bodies of those creatures, Izuku included.

Looking through the haze, a great shadow covered the whole of the sky from a certain angle Izuku found, looking up at the always rising sun, recognizing this as being the direction he needed to follow, as every shadow was founded upon by something blocking the light from passing down, and so he ran towards the shadow quickly, though with a knife readied in his hand should he need to stab another tree to send the creatures hidden away scrambling once more. Brandishing such a weapon was unneeded as he found upon a tree which was staggering in scale, a massive thing easily the size of the stone monument to those who’d died in some old war which overlooked the sea near the far flame of Majula. 

Next, to get inside the tree, Izuku had a simple order of operations to break into the tree’s interior - just find the hidden hatch located somewhere on the gargantuan arbor. It was not an idea situation, Izuku had almost no talent for climbing, and the splattering deaths that came from the falls were the stuff of nightmares, so horrid were they he’d gone out of his way to learn how to faceplant when falling off a tree, just so he would never cripple himself and wait to die choking on his blood as his body laid motionless at the base of a tree such as this. An instant death was far preferable to a slow, agonizing death which might take hours for him to bleed out, his body becoming cold and consciousness drawing thin as his body slowly succumbs to the injuries inflicted upon it. Death was not some quick and painless thing, memories of those plump little piglets eating his body alive had proven that death was immensely horrifying, and equally painful, the sensation of each bite from the pigs as they forced their tusks through his skin and into his stomach had shown him the horror of death, the dozen or so times since facing that same death had only served to adjust him to being ready to that pain, and to avoid it like the plague.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Izuku removed his hands from his ears and double checked his pack, adjusting it slightly so that it did not cause him any extra difficulties while climbing up the tree in search of some secret point of ingress which would allow him to pass through the rest of these woods in relative safety. Cracking his knuckles, Izuku grabbed hold of the tree, finding purchase on a stump of a branch where a limb once grew but had since been trimmed or culled. Climbing the tree was not the easiest thing, though it certainly was not the most difficult thing that Izuku had experienced in his time since arriving in this land of Drangleic, or whatever it would become known as once the next monarch arose to the throne and usurped the titles granted to the previous, should the previous abdicate - the affairs of the nobles in the far away castle mattered naught to Izuku, it was merely the ramblings of Sweet Shaliquor during breaks in their lessons.

She’d taught him numerous things in the time since he’d happened upon her shack, though were he to attempt to recall any one thing, he would doubtlessly forget another, such was a fact of the life in this realm where time flowed like molasses and yet also as quickly as the wind did blow. A land without any order that Izuku could count on to guide him, such was why Sweet Shaliquor instructed him with waypoints, as the natural world of this place was anything but natural, tales of a faraway kingdom sat upon a bed of molten iron which itself was sat above a valley of poison and ruined mines confused Izuku to his most basic senses. Nothing made sense, so he was advised to simply forgo sense, instead counting upon instinct, which he’d thus far been unable to give wholeheartedly into, his desire to analyse getting in the way of understanding the world, or trying to understand. In the end he understood nothing, because he knew, nothing.

The hatch was not hard to find once Izuku had climbed high enough to be free of some of the fog, the metal latches on the body of the lockway gleaming in an unnatural beam of sunlight originating from beyond the sun’s own gaze. A coincidence or providence, the question did not occur to Izuku as he climbed through the hatch into the hollowed out tree, which upon reflection was more like a bastion against the creatures of the fog. The house did not scream, much to Izuku’s pleasure, instead opening like a chest to allow him sanctuary within, a spiraling stair leading down below the ground and into a tunnel into the earth itself, likely leading to the next path - a river to nowhere in particular.

That would be the business he’d attend to in time, though for right now, he desired to rest, tend to his armor and clean himself as gently as possible given the damage he might well have taken had he not spent these moments on the upkeep of his equipment. What he really would have preferred was access to a proper blacksmith to tend to his equipment, lessons having been taught to him by Sweet Shaliquor on the arcane arts of blacksmithing, reinforcement of the common and mundane articles he called armor into peerless defensive tools through the exploitation of ore blessed with the same arcane sources from which certain people were able to draw upon - soul sorcery.

It had interested him since learning about the magical powers gained by those who could manipulate and manifest the innate magic of the soul to achieve the goals of the practitioner. Though, to be a sorcerer required being special, something which Sweet Shaliquor had teasingly said was impossible for Izuku, that no amount of hard work would allow him to cast sorceries on his own, that he would always be reliant upon some other power if he sought the strength of sorceries. That said, Izuku took her words to say that whatever tool one used to cast sorceries would need to be extremely special in his case, or that his power to manipulate the soul might be something other than sorceries. Her words were meant to dissuade him, though that endeavor had failed, instead igniting a curiosity in the boy which would persist until the end of time itself.

His armor was not in as rotten condition as he might have suspected, though the arrow had severely dented the back, forming a weaponing should he be stabbed in the back by some other malcontender, though the protection of the armor was still sufficient to protect his life from a dozen or so more blows, and unlike his sword, which laid at the bottom of that screaming, bleeding tree, armor was still usable if it was damaged, the main point of it being to protect the body should the wearer be hit, not to protect the wearer from being hit, so a sudden failure was not as big of a deal to Izuku. Still though, the leather padding beneath the armor would protect him even if the breastplate failed, the metal armor existing mainly as an extra layer rather than his final defense, he’d learned a lesson on relying upon armor and shields, they bred complacency and fear, the former was dangerous, the latter he already had in abundance.

Fear was a natural part of life, even back in his home, fear of being attacked by a malcontent, a villain, that was double, or perhaps multiple times more important in this land. Fear was a dominant force of Izuku’s life here, fear of dying was on his mind near constantly, the easiest method to stave it off being sipping from his Estus Flask, a jade jug filled with the sour fruity fluid of distilled sunlight, a gift given to him by the woman dressed in an emerald cloak wordlessly upon approaching a small flame. Though, if that had even happened was a question Izuku couldn’t answer, only remembering awakening in the familiar attic of the mansion with the flask in his possession.

Reaching into his pack, Izuku brought forth a jar of flame butterflies and a torch, both of which he’d use after closing the hatch to guide his path through the underground of the tree, the bowels of which would be doubtlessly pitch black as night itself, if Izuku had seen the night in all his travels, it had already been nearly 3 weeks by his own count since leaving the far flame on his journey towards the forest and fort on the sea. Walking across the country was not exactly difficult, nor was finding food, or rather, replacing his supplies for food, there was always some undead whose supplies could be stolen into during their routine, his current supply of food coming from one such petty theft, a hollowed merchant who’d lost his mind at the side of the road, same person from whom Izuku had pilfered his sword. 

Placing the torch on the ground, Izuku took the jar and carefully opened the lid just so that it was nearly off the jar, then placed it on the ground, taking the torch in his left hand, jar lid in his right. In one swift movement, the jar was removed and the tip of the torch was placed next to the flame butterflies, which gently brushed against the oil soaked, cloth wrapped stick, igniting the item in a warm glow which Izuku pulled from the jar, replacing the lid, managing to only lose one of his three butterflies. Closing the hatch, Izuku basked in the torchlight as he began to descend the stairs into the depths of the great tree which would lead him further onwards towards the destination, towards his goal.

Goals. They were an important thing to have, equally or perhaps more so to keep in mind at all times, as the loss of goals was part of what made slipping one’s sanity easier in this world, the despair and desperation as the idea of some grander goal became more and more impossible. Thus, it was a vital skill to break down grand goals into smaller, more achievable steps. Izuku had a single greater goal, to return to Japan and his mother, to get there, he knew little of what steps he would need to follow, such was why Sweet Shaliquor had advised him to head towards the fort on the sea, that he might find some knowledge there within the archives of that nearby place which might lead him towards another step in achieving that goal. It was the solitary ounce of hope which allowed him to drive onwards towards the fortress, that should contain some modicum of hope that he could return to Japan before befalling the fate of all beings in the land, that all would one day fall to the influence of decay and Hollowing. Izuku understood this, academically, though not practically, it was a simple fact of the world that one day all humans would undergo Hollowing as the humanity in their bodies ate away at their spirits and souls until they went mad and perished accordingly, wasting away to nothingness. It was thoughts of his goals that was supposed to keep him grounded, and keep him focusing on moving forward, for once one surrendered to the world around them, Hollowing could truly begin at that point.

Descending the stairs, Izuku kept his ear sharp, listening for any sort of sound out of place which would spell a quick death for him, he had no weapons, no ability to survive in the pitch black of the tunnel through the earth, he would be certainly doomed the moment some other forced decided to feast upon his corpse. It was stressful, and had him moving quickly through the tunnel until it opened slightly, a modicum of light passing through a pinhole in the ceiling which gave proof the room was empty, the walls decorated with murals of great creatures. A tapestry detailing the Lords of yore, the Giants across the sea, the legendary dragons who controlled the skies far beyond the reach of any mere mortal man, be him truly mortal or a facsimile of a mortal man, cursed with the undeath of the darksign. Great depictions of skeletal creatures doing battle against dragons and winged demons of all sorts were plastered across the murals, always in the foreground with a crowd of mere humans in the background, dying by the hundred to a single attack from one of the deific creatures in the foreground. Such was the lot of humans, the weakest of the races who lived within the world, cursed to undeath and an eternally slow decay as any kingdom they created fell to the same demise as was inevitable for the rest of their kind. They were not strong, not enough to fight the greater beings, they were not brave, not enough to hold their own in a war, they were not smart, not enough that they could think on their own, instead always reliant upon another greater mentor, humans were weak creatures.

Though humans did possess one thing which allowed them to transcend their own limitations, the identity of such trait still did evade Izuku, Sweet Shalquoir promising that he would come across the source of strength which allowed mere humans to battle against even the gods themselves. Some secrets only known to those who sought the throne, and the first flame too, though the exact nature of those two things, whether they were the same or different, both were beyond Izuku, he was a mere human. Though he was a human with a goal, and as such could not succumb to his weakness until he achieved his goal, then and only then would he return to being a mere human. Perhaps it was hope that decided the difference between mere humans and those who battled gods - that or insanity, it could be difficult to tell the two apart at times… supposedly.

Moving past the mural telling of those greater beings, Izuku continued through the tunnel, leading down towards a stony path, the surrounding stone not natural, rather a petrification indicating that this place too had once been home to basilisks, horrid bulging eyes hiding a lizard’s face which contained a gaseous petrifying gas that could kill any who inhaled it. It was not as wretched as being cursed, supposedly, though it would certainly kill instantly just the same, though the effects would not persist after death, supposedly. Izuku had no intention of being petrified save for in fear, nor did he plan to be cursed, though he would not mind being cursed at - was a joke which Sweet Shalquoir suggested he tell himself about the two afflictions which would cause great pain. It was nice enough to remember the two afflictions because of the joke, though if Izuku was being honest, neither of the alternatives sounded particularly appealing either. Being petrified in fear would only lead to death, same as the genuine article, and being cursed at would lead to being attacked, and possibly death, same as the genuine article, though in the case of the latter there would supposedly be no repercussions post mortem.

Reaching the end of the tunnel, he is presented with a single choice, a drop down into an underbrush at the base of another tree which seemed to bask in the light, the shadows of said tree being different compared to those of the ones he’d been accustomed to, as though he’d traveled far enough for the sun itself to shift in the sky, which he knew, academically, to be impossible, though, that was in Japan, here there was no rule like that. Perhaps then he would one day come across a place where it was night so that he’d not need to sleep with a covering over his eyes and stuffing himself into some shaded place to keep himself protected from the rays of sunlight which always wormed their way to his body. With a shrug, Izuku dropped down into the new area of exploration, knowing that the path back would be different and more difficult for him to follow, though those problems would be for the future, after he’d obtained what the fort on the sea held.

Falling down into the underbrush, Izuku kept himself low and pressed against the tree, pulling out a special dagger Sweet Shalquoir had given him for the day he reached this point in the journey. It was a thin, needle like dagger, more like a sewing needle than a proper knife or dagger of any sort, though it’s value lay not in the ability to wound a person, but to wound a tree and draw out the screams and moans of any others in the vicinity, the resounding of which would spell his doom in short order as these trees were not the sort to protect, but the sort to slaughter and kill the invaders who tread upon their land. His own experience with the foul arbors coming from a day where he stumbled into a grove of the trees, which plucked him from the ground before wrapping and crushing his limbs in a slow, deliberate manner, the dripping of his blood feeding their hungry roots which lapped up his blood and screams like a cat with cream. Those same roots growing upwards towards his dangling legs and tearing into his flesh, rending his muscles ascunder in search of more blood to sate their thirst, all the while his screams of pain filled the skies of the empty grove. He’d never returned to that grove, and had since learned to tell the trees apart, difficult though it may have been.

Stabbing the needle into the tree, no noise arose from his surroundings.

Stabbing the needle into the tree, no noise filled the air around him.

Stabbing the needle into the tree, a weak laugh escaped from the mouth of the green haired boy.

Stabbing the needle into the tree, the laugh strengthened, manic in nature, cackling at the rapturous joy of not being surrounded by the trees.

Stabbing the needle into the tree, Izuku left the blade embedded into the trunk as a full body laugh overcame him, his body doubling over as a gleeful, toothy smile stretched across his face, bending backwards, Izuku’s laugh filled the air in totality, fists raising and hitting the tree. [NO MOANING! THERE IS NO MOANING IN THIS GROVE! YOU HEAR ME TREE YOU ARE NOT MOANING! YOU CAN NOT MOAN! HAHAHAHAHA!] It was a spraying, wet laugh which coursed through his body like a river, [YOU WILL NEVER MOAN! YOU ARE NOT THE TREES THAT MOAN!] He reiterated to the grove around him, his laughter finally petering out after a solid minute and a half of rancorous laughter, leaving him out of breath and panting, face red from the exertion of laughter. Gently prodding the tree, Izuku chanted once more, [no moaning~] he teased to the tree, smile on his face as wide as humanly possible.

Reaching up to reclaim his needle, it comes free from the tree, which continued to not moan, much to Izuku’s pleasure, with some difficulty, the blade having been deeply embedded in his frantic stabbing into the tree which now bled sap like the tree in the fog bled blood and yellow puss. Wiping the blade clean on his cloak, Izuku took in his surroundings, not knowing the exact direction to follow as the sun was now overhead rather than in the direction of the east, away from the sea made it difficult to decide on his path. So he didn’t decide on a path, he chose to walk whichever path he could take, heading off in an arbitrary direction, hopes of find the right path being his sole plan.

Again and again he walks forwards, tumbling down hills, overcoming drops and cliffs, dropping through treelines and wandering aimlessly for as long as he had food. The path he follows is straight and non-linear, leading him back to the tree which continued to not moan after another stabbing and giggles over the lack of moaning. Still though, a few fresh, scabbed over cuts graced his face, twigs and leaves stuck to his person as he considered what to do next, wiping the sweat from his brow. [Right, straight path,] Izuku breathed out uneasily, looking in the same direction he’d emerged from the tunnel from, [how hard could that be?]

A response caw sounded from on high, it was the bird again, cawing to him that his idea was not wrong, or that is what the sleep deprived, hungry Izuku took the message to mean. It might have been days since he emerged from the tunnel, he’d certainly drunk all his water since even entering the tree what felt like a week before, the lack of movement in the sun, the lack of time’s flow, it all made the scale of such things impossible for someone to comprehend, the only part which allowed for any sort of understanding being bodily needs, hunger, thirst, bodily functions, those are what defined the passage of time, not movement of the sun, which according to Sweet Shalquoir might not have even been a star, but rather a whole in the sky dragged about by a god who harnessed said power to move the land itself. Stumbling forward, Izuku found the strength leave his legs soon before coming to a rest under a tree, panting and drawing out his Estus Flask, an emergency called for use of emergency provisions, a single sip could nourish his body for up to two days, healing his wounds and fortifying his soul with the graceful sunlight imbued within the flames of a bonfire.

Before he could press the jade jar to his lips, the bird which always followed him, stalked him, the only sound he was used to, the bird landed on his upright foot, staring at him intently, an almost smug look in the eyes of the bird which slowly began to hop up his leg, settling into his lap, a loud squawk aimed squarely at his face. [Oh what now bird, come to boast about something?] The stare of the bird was unchanging, though not unbroken as it did peck at his armored chest once, [of course I know where I am headed, I’m not a fool, I’m merely resting,] Izuku explained to his guest. A caw emanated from the bird, once more aimed at Izuku’s face, and another peck to his chestplate, [If you’ve a better idea, i would gladly follow it,] Izuku sassed to the crow, which flapped up to his shoulder and pecked harmlessly at his ear. [Well, let’s hear it then, if you’ve got such a great idea.]

This was a mistake as the loud caw filled the right ear of the body, knocking him over as he recoiled in pain as the bird’s loud noise stunned him and disoriented him. The bird didn’t stick around, flying off from his body as he recoiled in pain, fleeing into the canopy above, a mocking squawk echoing in the area. [Crazy bird! What the hell was that for! Was it something I said? I didn’t mean to upset you! I just wanted to know if you had a better idea for what to do!] Izuku complained to the bird which remained in the trees above him, retorting with another squawk. [I really mean it!] Izuku apologized, [honest to the gods, i didn’t mean it!] There was no response from the bird, though he could pick out the black feathered bird in the trees above him, as though goading him in to following, which he did with nothing else better to do.

Yes, he was following a random bird that followed him around more frequently, but then again, the only other person he was close to was a talking cat with a dirty mind, his options for people he could talk to was already slim, so between wandering blindly and following a bird, he picked the bird. There was also his misguided memory telling him that crows were good omens, he was wrong to believe that, but this would only be the first time he put his faith in the bird, so he was prepared to be burned once by the bird. The bird flitted between the branches, leading him onward and forward in a winding path which seemed to circle for what felt like hours, necessitating Izuku to pull out his Estus Flask only for a caw to tell him to hold off a little while longer. {You’d better lead me somewhere bird! If you’re just playing with me because you want to eat me, at least be less annoying about it!] Izuku complained to the bird which flew away, leaving him alone and lost once more. [You freaking…] Izuku cursed at the bird which had indeed burned him.

Or rather, he believed it to have burned him for a moment, realizing a moment later that he could hear the sounds of water pouring over rocks, the moving water a sign that he’d gotten closer to the next step of the journey - the creek which supplied the outer walls of the fortress by the sea. The end of his journey was surely in sight as he walked through the trees following the sound of the rushing water until coming upon the creek flowing through a valley down below with no obvious path down. Still though, he could deal with a few scrapes and bruises, he still had an ample few sips of Estus, thus he didn’t mind as he began to slip and slide down the rocky overlook, climbing down, or rather, slowly falling down the incline until he tumbled onto his face at the bottom of the valley, mere feet from the crystal blue water which sang to him a sweet siren’s song. Crawling forward, there was no thought in Izuku’s mind as he stuffed his head into the water, allowing the freezing cold to wash over his face as he drank deeply. It was a bit sweeter than the water from the well next to the mansion, but far more refreshing, pleasured breaths escaping from Izuku as he pulled his head back from the stream, shaking out his now wetted hair like a shaggy dog. Pulling off his gloves, Izuku also stuck his hands into the stream and enjoyed the cooling water rushing over his sweaty hands, letting out a satisfied groan before falling backwards on the soft embankment of the creak, a fulfilled laugh escaping as he stared up into the blue sky, a marched change from the early morning red he’d grown accustomed to over the last dozen or so years.

[Sorry for doubting you pretty bird!] Izuku shouted to the bird which was presumably still in the surroundings listening to the probably insane man who’d just drunk from a random stream of water.

Sitting up, Izuku decided to dunk his feet into the stream as well, further enjoying the refreshing feeling before settling his heart and continuing on his journey, brief respite and pleasure now firmly affixed in his memory. Following the creek would simplify things, this was supposedly a straight shot towards the fortress on the edge of the sea, the place where he might find an answer, or hint towards his return to Japan, or at least, following the creek _should_ simplify his journey from this point on. There was still the issue of navigating the fortress itself, the topic which Sweet Shalquoir had no guidance on, instead advising that he simply give it a solid effort, leaving no stone unturned, no passage unexplored. A tall order, but one he was willing to fulfill, he had time, he had the desire, and would surely find something to make the trip worthwhile.

A ways down the creak, Izuku faced the fortress’s outermost layer, the stone and stalwart bulwark against an invasion of foes from the seas in a war from an age so long gone that Izuku could not comprehend the foes, or rather, knew so little about the conflict, that his attempt to prod into the history had been in vain. It was a great many stories tall, made of grey stonework between which greenery had sprouted out, the towers and crenellations having long since began to crumble, with walls along the upper walkways having since tumbled and fallen apart after an untold number of years since they were last kept up by anyone with sense. There was also certainly damage to have been found within the buildings, this fortress had been the sight of a battle, supposedly.

On the path towards the structure, a quick glance made by Izuku turned into a slight detour as he stumbled upon a campsite, long abandoned, centered upon a fire pit, filled with ash, bone, and blackened earth, a singular coiled weapon plunged into the center of the fire pit, it lacked any sort of handle, or if it had a handle it was not obvious. Either way, Izuku pulled it from the pit to inspect the coiled weapon, which handled like a sword, the lack of his own weapon had been hurting, and this fire pit didn’t seem to have any need for such an instrument, by contrast, he really did need something to use in case he got into a fight. Pilfering from the dead was something Izuku had grown used to, there was little harm in it, he had pilfered his own corpse before, which was a strange sensation, he could only tell the corpse belonged to himself because he knew the contents of the body and the location, but the face was always different, never his own. Just a weird quirk of the world he’d come to suppose.

Journeying along the bank of the creek was easy on Izuku, the softness of the soil cushioning his steps, the dirt not being so wet as to become mud and sticking to his boots, the heavy metal iron coiled weapon awkwardly shoved into the shortsword’s sheath, barely fitting after some “adjustments” to the item, cutting open the mouth enough to make storage a bit easier. His journey alongside the creek was pleasant, the sounds of the water rushing over the rockbed and the occasional splash of water helping fill the dead air with the voice of some unheard speaker. Almost reminded Izuku of his other best friend and body of water, the ocean down below the sheer cliffs in Majula, yes, he was now friends with two bodies of water and two animals, the pickings were slim and he was almost certainly a bit deranged by the standards of normal Japanese people, but that didn’t really matter, he lived in a world where the only “person” he’d spoken to since arriving years ago was an immortal, talking, pervert cat. The only other “person” he’d even dealt with more than once was the bird, which would occasionally squawk at him and be a nuisance, though that was life he supposed.

Reaching the end of the creek, or rather, the point at which the creek entered into the fortress, Izuku began walking around, searching for some point where he could enter the building from, finding such a thing in a collapsed wall, leading him up onto a rampart overlooking a courtyard in the middle of which was a rather well aged tree with white petals spread across the branches which spread and covered the majority of the massive courtyard. It was impressive, and the placement told Izuku that the tree had been planted years ago, likely during the fortress’s heyday, before the battle which had destroyed the garrison which once occupied this fortress. That however, did not help Izuku with the predicament of descending from the rampart, though that too was unneeded as Izuku found a path along the wall he could walk to lead towards the rest of the fortress. It was unsafe to walk along the top of the wall connecting this outer fort to the main body of the fortress, however, there was a strong possibility of Hollows still stalking the halls of the fortress, so best to avoid them until he could claim a proper weapon to deal with them, until he knew exactly what he was facing - he’d be extremely upset if he died and had to undertake the whole journey once more, another long 3, maybe 4 weeks of walking before he could return to this point, and doing it all without the equipment which brought him this far.

Walking along the walls was easier than he’d expected, the passageways made of stone and giving him easy access to the core of the base, though the lack of any sort of prevention against falling to his death did disquiet him a bit. Still though, bypassing the outer sections of the fort did make his entrance to the greater body of the structure far easier, allowing him to bypass a small group of Hollows meandering through a second courtyard attached to the fort wall over which he tread, thus Izuku felt no worry about his traversal of the wall. Gazing over the battlements and walls, the gated sections of the fort which he bypassed along his path which was not meant to be tread, Izuku saw more and more Hollows, their low groans and rotting bodies stumbling and falling around the sealed off sections he would at some point inspect, though he would need to remove the Hollows from the world before he could afford to enter, despite their lacking sense, Hollows did possess some sort of comradery and cunning to create traps for passersby. 

Off to his left, a deep pitted courtyard with a cave which bellowed smoke, likely a cave infested with lizards of fire or some other such creature who made their home in the underground and emitted flame and fire as he did breathe. There was almost certainly no items worth dropping down into that pit for, likely having been burned or used as kindling by the creatures down that blasted hole, the only thing which would await him would be a fiery death and consumption at the hands of those creatures. It was an estimation of what awaited him down there, with the only basis being the billowing smoke and slight smell of sulfur on the air, perhaps one day he might travel down that path, but that was certainly not this day, or this time rather. 

Reaching the end of the wall, Izuku found purchase on a metal ladder of some stability on which he climbed up to a higher battlement, likely the first part of the real fortress rather than some outer boundary. This battlement overlooked the pitted courtyard where the cave of smoke did call home, which from this angle allowed Izuku to stop statues of man, spikes spreading forth from their bodies, whether by pertricication or curse, the cause was unknown to Izuku, who turned his back on the figures, inspecting the heavy wrought iron door which blocked his path forwards into the base properly. Izuku let out a yawn as the dreariness of his journey took him a moment, only a few more hours until he would need to rest, or sip from his Estus. Drawing out his recently obtained coiled sword, Izuku began to pace around the battlement, inspecting the area for traps or Hollows who were merely faking their death to ensnare his person. Just past the door, to the left, round a small corner was an obvious trap to Izuku.

A knight of the old kingdom resting its bastard sword against its body, looking over a properly dead and desiccated corpse on which Izuku could plainly see the glittering of some metal item of potential value. Reaching into his bag with his left hand, Izuku withdrew a clay pot of oil with a certain wick, the sort that ignited when exposed to oil, the exact nature of the weapon was something which Izuku only understood based upon Sweet Shalquoir’s explanation of the tool. Pulling back his left arm, Izuku tossed the firebomb at the knight, where the pot broke and the bomb exploded into a small fire, waking the knight from his false sumber with a gut wrenching screech, the sword being used as a cane to give the knight raise to its feet. Though, it was too little too late as Izuku approached and bashed the Hollow over the head with the coiled weapon, impacting the helmet with a crunch as the head within burst, black blood exploding out the faceplate, splattering against Izuku’s body, who staggered backwards before falling onto his butt, panting.

Killing Hollows, creatures who’d once been human, was still something that took ample time for him to psyche himself up for, and extorted a heavy toll on his spirit, his heart crying out for some sensibility in this land of madness, of Hollows and creatures all which sought the deaths of one another. Still though, in time he did recover himself, and from the burned and slain knight a new pair of armored boots, gauntlets and a breastplate which seemed of better quality than the one he’d been using, the bastard sword was too large for his small frame, much to his chagrin, a proper weapon would have made his life easier, but he was not the sort to needlessly expose himself to danger, such was the creed Sweet Shalquoir advised he follow on his journey. The glittering on the corpse revealed itself to be items Izuku was familiar enough with a pair of knives meant for throwing and a satchel of witching urns, an arcane weapon which used souls manifest as a source of power to burst forth in an explosion of soul magic. Both goods were useful to Izuku, and both were added to his person as best as he could accommodate.

Adjusting the metal braced gauntlets against his arms, Izuku stood from his pilfering and walked back to the door which barred his path and entry to the fort proper, now clear of one additional trap. Without much ceremony, Izuku pushed open the metal door, which glided over the ground on suspiciously well oiled hinges. Before him stood a statue of a woman, to his right, a gaping hole in the wall leading back out towards the battlements, a tree growing upwards through the broken floor and upwards further still to a hole in the ceiling of the room, the floor above and the roof of the building. Neither of these sights gave Izuku any sort of comfort, or made any sort of sense, a running theme of the world. To his left was a set of stairs leading to the second floor of the building, which given the tree growing through the room, he felt no desire to explore at the current moment. Breathing a sigh of malcontent, Izuku turned towards the exterior once more, passing through the hole in the wall and looking out over the interior of the base which seemed to sprawl out like the memories of Japan’s cities.

In the distance, great statues of man stood as bulwarks against the sea, though both had received ample wounds, one missing it’s head, and the other it’s sword, this fort had indeed seen a battle against some great foe in the past, so it was not overly surprising for such audacious displays of power to have been damaged or destroyed during the battle. Walking along the battlement, a sight caught the eye of Izuku, a tree in full bloom, the second he’d spotted in his journey, though for a tree to find a place to grow in the fort proper did surprise him given the beauty of the tree itself. Something about the tree interested him, perhaps it was the beauty of the thing, or perhaps it was some otherworldly attraction brought about by the power of the tree itself. 

Izuku did find himself ambling towards the yard, moving at a snails pace, checking each and every corner and crevice for some sort of trap which might be pulled on his person, such as a ballista that had been repositioned to aim at a doorway, offering an easy means of killing any fool stupid enough to walk into the field of fire - should the ballista have been manned. Passing through another sealed off passway, climbing over a ruined and crushed battlement, Izuku found himself upon the wall which overlooked the tree, which almosted looked as a man, towering over the courtyard which the branches growing from its wooden body provided a flowering canopy. Inspecting the tree further, Izuku changed his recognition of the thing to that of a giant, creatures who were said to become trees upon their deaths, blooming upwards and outwards unless burned by the fires of a master pyromancer’s mastered sorceries of flame. 

Descending down a pile of rubble with more finesse than Izuku would have expected given his recent habit of tumbling and falling flat on his face, he approached the fallen giant, looking up at the empty pit of a face which constituted the creature’s head. Looking over the creature a bit closer, he found marks from weapons having been clanged against the body of the creature to little or no avail, and obvious outcome. Giants were of the great races, humans could never hope to stand against them, it was an impossibility to even harm them with the weapons of man. Reaching out and placing a hand on the creature’s corpse, [I wonder what you were like when you lived,] Izuku wondered aloud, curiosity getting the better of him for a moment, though he quickly shook it off as he turned away from the fallen giant, [maybe I’ll return one day and find your story, please wait for me until then,] he requested of the corpse.

A sigh passed between Izuku’s lips as he left the small enclave where the giant had fallen, becoming a beautiful blooming tree, entering into a larger space, filled with barrels black in color and smelling of ash and sulfur, the sort of scent which invoked fearful memories of the creatures who breathed flames and burned Izuku alive when he attempted to return to the gazebo from which he first arrived. Pushing over the barrel, black powder spilled onto the ground, informing Izuku that most likely the whole courtyard was a storage for such things and to avoid the use of any open flames here as an explosion of this magnitude would almost certainly result in his death. Fleeing from the area, he emerged through another hole in the wall into an overlook of the sea where in the distance sat the setting sun, or perhaps it was rising, the position was impossible to judge in this land which defied the logic of people from Japan.

Walking forwards towards the scene of the golden sea, Izuku smiled, kicking some rubble out of his way, off the broken away and destroyed hallway floor down hundreds of feet into the waters below which crashed against the the jagged, toothy cliff face far below which spelt doom for any who fell into the flotsam and jetsam crashed upon the coastline. [I made it to the sea,] Izuku smiled at the scene, though that smile did falter almost immediately as the sounds of metal scraping on stonework drew his attention away from the picturesque waters. Turning on the heel of his newly acquired metal boots, Izuku scanned his surroundings for a Hollow, any sort of movement being indicative of his immediate danger. Looking to his right, he saw naught, looking to his left he saw another Hollowed knight of the old army who occupied this base, standing atop an elevation above the door to another tower or battlement of the fortress.

Izuku instantly turned to run from the Hollow which let sound a low groan, dashing after him, harsh clanking of their matching metal boots filling the hall with the sounds of metal crunching over stonework and the clattering of their armors. The pair running until Izuku reached the end of the hall and found himself cornered by the approaching knight, which drew its arm back up and high, sword held aloft with a great groan burrowing into Izuku’s ears as it swung downward toward Izuku. The blade found no purchase however, Izuku rolled out of the way of the strike as quickly as a mouse, smacking the knight in the chest as he dashed away, hoping the injury would slow the creature enough to pull out a weapon to finish off the creature. 

The injury gave the Hollow no pause as it recovered from the attack and swung after Izuku, who attempted to guard himself using the coiled weapon which broke the blade only so well. Izuku was not a trained swordsman, and it showed as even the remnant memory of the soldier disarmed Izuku with a flourish of its sword before swinging once more, which Izuku took on his metal protected gauntlets hoping for a chance to pull out some attack that could give him the advantage over the foe. Pushing off the blade, Izuku tackled the Hollow to the ground, grabbing the blade with his hands and pressing it to the neck of the Hollow, pressing hard as he could to crush the throat of the creature under his weight and the cutting edge of the blade which pressed as much into the neck as it did the palms of Izuku’s gloved hands. Izuku let out a scream of fury as the blade cut into his hands through the gloves, the warmth of his blood filling the gloves with a sticky warmth he’d grown used to throughout his time in this world.

A final, low snap sounded the end of the Hollow’s struggling as the blade passed downward into the neck of the creature which had the potential to do in Izuku had he not killed the thing. Pulling himself free of the corpse, Izuku grabbed hold of the blade with his right hand, wincing in pain from his bleeding palms. A sip of Estus would be a waist, though it was also the only option he had to fix a wound like this, the sort where should it fester would likely lead to more. A sip of the golden sour fruity beverage later, Izuku felt fully refreshed as though he’d not been traveling for 2 weeks since last sipping from his flask. 

Giving a few quick swings of his fifth weapon he’d used on the trip, Izuku swapped out his now properly ruined shortsword sheath for the nicer one found on the corpse of the knight, tossing the body and his previous coiled weapon off the cliff to ensure they could not be used against him in any way, a precaution he’d devised long ago in Majula when a insane Hollow arrived, the sort of Hollow which rose from the grave periodically. His heart still raced in his chest as he settled his breathing and walked back toward the courtyard filled with explosives, spotting a Hollow across from him, arm held aloft, some object in its hand, throwing the small thing towards Izuku, whose eyes widened as a spark of recognition flashed in his eyes as the firebomb struck the ground in the middle of the pile of explosive powder.

The maelstrom of flames and shrapnel burst forth right in the face of Izuku, engulfing him completely and burning, scorching his body, the pressure wave blowing him backwards towards the sea and his demise.

* * *

The door opened to reveal an unkempt stranger, his hair a mess of forest green and eyes a dull shade of green, pale skin and strangely feral looking mutations characterizing his face. As red stares into green, only one thing could be said: “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> StormMagnet here inviting yall to the server not the best and will be improved but hope you like it
> 
> also shit post comments are encouraged and loved
> 
> https://discord.gg/FQSrzhBvyv

A splash of water, the sounds of a faucet opened to full blast created a peaceful ambiance for the task of washing away the crimson drippings of the boy’s eyes. Splotches of the blood imperfectly merged with some foreign black substance which too dribbled from the boy’s tired rust red eyes. Steam arose as the hands of the boy moved without grace to wipe away the secretions from an old and unknown wound, the hot water stinging his hands ever so slightly as it washed away blood and black speckles in the sink, the steam fogging up the mirror of the bathroom ever so slightly.

Finished washing away the mess, the boy wipes away at the fogged over mirror, revealing the visage of a sandy blond with eyes the color of blood, dark bruises hanging under his eyes as bags. A line of black and red runs down from both eyes as though he’d been crying. Wiping away the thick congealed substance with his still warm hands, he runs them under the water once more before cleaning them finally with one of the hanging towels. Like normal, the ocular discharge of blood and black something or other sticks to his fingers and face just a bit. A few splashes of water to the face help alleviate some of the substance, leaving a barely noticeable pair of lines leading down to his chin.

“I look like a clown,” the boy mutters to his reflection, looking down at the stained sink before grabbing a scrubbing brush to remove as much of the gunk as possible. It was fruitless, the stuff always sticking and staying, staining anything it touched, same as the black and red towel which he used to dry his hands once he’d finished with the sink, the black substance still being present, though slightly washed away. With a final look in the mirror, the boy sniffed back with a sneer at his reflection.

Leaving the bathroom behind, he walks down the hall, hands shoved into his pockets to help keep them warm, trodding past the living room which held the old hag and geezer. Whatever they’re talking about is irrelevant as he passes them by, not saying a word to either. They were probably talking about their stupid fashion shit, or current events or some other pointless drivel. Unlike those two, he had better things to do than sit around talking in circles about nothing. 

Sitting down in the entryway, the old hag is the first one to speak to him, not moving from her position on the couch, “and just where exactly do you think you are going brat?”

Clicking his tongue in a bit of frustration at tying his shoes, not daring to put on the stupid velcro ones, Katsuki snapped back, “none of your damn business! I’m not gonna keel over with everything I do, so stop being a nagging worrywart.” Finishing his first and starting on the second, his fingers already growing cold and losing a bit of sensation exposed to the open air, they didn’t need to know that however, he was fine enough. The second gave him a bit more trouble, but he bore with it, so long as he tied them down, there would be no issue, he’d been lacing up his shoes for the last 12 years, there was no way he’d go back to that kiddy shit velcro bullshit.

Finishing with the second, he grabs hold of the railing to help get to his feet, giving the shoes a few quick kicks to make sure they won’t come loose on his walk. A call from his mother reached him once more as he grabbed one of his hand warmers to stuff into his pockets, “oh really? How’d that work out for the other 200 that died? Huh?” She mocked in her usual bitchy tone. “At least here we can help if your symptoms crop up again,” her tone had shifted back to its more typical ‘I’m worried so I’ll keep you here forever’ tone. “You and Inko are the only ones left, there’s already enough reason to be worried about you brat, so why don’t you be a good boy, put your ass in reverse, tell us where you’re going or wait for one of us to come with you.”

Katsuki breathed in as his temper peaked for the morning, “I’M NOT A FUCKING PIECE OF GLASS YOU FUCKING BITCH! I’M FINE! I HAVEN’T EVEN BEEN SICK FOR THE LAST YEAR! SO LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE! GOD FUCKING DAMNIT!” Throwing open the door, Katsuki was about two feet outside the house when a hand grabbed him by the back of his shirt.

“If you aren’t going to be reasonable Katsuki, then I suppose I’ll be unreasonable too,” the geezer commented with a tired tone, pulling Katsuki backwards into the house. Pulling him back into the house, and throwing him onto the couch. Katsuki impatiently sat on the couch, waiting for the two of them, well aware that he couldn’t overpower them. Damned fucking disease, fucking messing him up, making him fucking weaker, making it fucking harder to get stronger. Fucking stupid thing.

As the old hag walked back into view, a knock at the door sounded, her turning back to get it. Though he could overhear part of it; “Mr. Yagi, to what do we owe the visit?” Katsuki sighed with news that the fucking skeleton had arrived. It was a few years after the villains kidnapped Izuku that the previous case worker was swapped out for this weird looking bonewalker who exclusively wore bright colored suits and reeked of cheap cologne. Back then, it was because the number of living victims had been decreasing so they’d gone about consolidating, though now that it was just Katsuki and Auntie, it was just a stupid formality. The government keeping tabs on them until they fucking died like the rest. “We weren’t expecting another check up this month,” the old hag wondered aloud.

Katsuki could see from his spot on the couch the dumbass bag of bones in a garish yellow suit reach back and rub his head like a kindergartener, “aah, yes, this is a somewhat unrelated issue, but I suppose you could say this is a somewhat normal event, really though, there are some other things that need to be handled regarding this and that. You know what I mean, surely,” the Skeleton rambled as Katsuki could plainly see the hag getting more and more pissed off as he continued his diatribe of government worming.

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” The hag questioned, arms crossed in front of her chest, shoulders back, chin raised in her usual domineering pose. The pose that Katsuki knew meant whatever she said was about to go. He had no fucking freedom in this damn house. It didn’t mean she was going to get violent, but the promise of a cold death should she be crossed. The lanky man leaned in, whispering something to her ear, as if consciously avoiding Katsuki’s prying ears. Whatever he said, it caused his Mom to relax, her shoulders lowering as she shook her head, the hint of a smile on her face. “Bad news Katsuki, you won’t have your loving parents escorting you to god knows where after all. Mr. Yagi is heading over to Inko’s house, so you’re going to drop in on her for a surprise. Won’t that be nice?” She suggested with a cheshire smirk.

Whatever he’d told her must have been something important, or important enough for her to back down from taking him. She’d never do that normally. The look on her face also didn’t bode well, but Katsuki shrugged off his concern, it had been a while since he’d seen Auntie, and he could always bully the bag of bones into buying him some snacks, games, or pretty much anything else. Getting up from the couch, Katsuki made doubly sure to not wobble as he did, because if the old hag or geezer found out about his current health, he’d probably get sent back to his room, and possibly the hospital. Fucking bullshit disease making him fucking weak.

Brushing past the fucking bag of bones, he knew the fucking drill as he walked down towards the street, towards the Skeleton’s Westaboo Itasha pickup truck.

(A/N: Itasha translates literally to “painful car,” more specifically, its cars which are done up in a livery or stickers of their waifus, anime characters and other _painfully_ embarrassing, cringy stuff. In this case, the truck is based upon Mr. Yagi being a Westaboo, a non-westerner who is obsessed with western culture.)

It was always embarrassing to see the weirdo’s fucking red, white, and blue truck, covered in American flags, depictions of eagles smoking cigars anthropermorphized to also be holding assault rifles looking like some 1980’s macho war movie character. How the hell the old skeleton managed to drive around in the fucking thing without dying of embarrassment was something Katsuki couldn’t fucking understand. Hopping into the passenger side of the truck, he kept his head down to not be recognized, not like it mattered, everyone knew that he would occasionally get rides from the government stooge. Still though, he hated being seen in the embarrassing car.

It was a good fifteen minutes before the skeleton walked out of the house, a bright handprint on his cheek. Served the skeleton right for making him wait, though as he got into the truck, Katsuki saw it was on both sides, looked like the old hag and geezer both had given the decrepit old man something to walk away with. “Hey bitch, you’ve got something on your face,” Katsuki noted mockingly miming the side of his face as the skeleton looked at him with his shrunken little eyes. “Oh, its on both sides too, maybe you should ask my folks for a hand or two,” Katsuki snarked at the skeleton who turned back to the vehicle, starting it up, the low rumble of the big engine coming to life.

Pulling out of the driveway, the slapped silly skelly retorted, “in a sense, I might well have asked for yours by the time this little trip is over.”

“Well, i’ll be, you’re being cryptic as fuck today,” Katsuki sighed, slumping back in the tanned, intentionally worn, leather seats, “fine, fine, fine. Wake me when we get to Auntie’s place.” With that, Katsuki closed his eyes and allowed the heated seat to make the ride a bit easier, helping lull him to sleep.

* * *

“Wake up my boy, we have arrived at Mrs. Midoriya's house.” Katsuki was shaken from his slumber by the old coot’s big boney hand on his shoulder, untucking his hands from under his legs, Katsuki swatted away the hand as he groggily got his bearings. 

“Fuckin’ finally,” Katsuki scoffed, stretching out in his seat, curling his toes in his shoes and cracking his fingers earning a groan from the skeleton. Bonesie’s distaste for the sound of cracking his joints was something Katsuki alway took a bit of pleasure in, same for with the old hag, who’d always talk about how he was going to get arthritis from it. Pulling his arm across his chest, his elbow popped too, sniffing back, “any longer and I would’ve thought you’d gotten lost.”

“We’ve been here for five minutes already,” the skeleton retorted, his backbone seeming to have grown a bit. It ticked off Katsuki that he couldn’t keep bullying the weirdo as much. “I’ll help you young Bakugou,” the Skeleton offered. 

Katsuki, not one to take the help, flipped him the bird as he hopped out of the truck, “I don’t need your help.” Katsuki walked ahead of the man as he walked up the path to the poarch, keeping an eye on the skeleton. He looked almost nervous, rubbing his hands together like a dirty fly. Without offering the weird antics of the old man, Katsuki rapt upon the door while the skeleton followed after him, mumbling something under his breath. Katsuki paused at the door before knocking again, this time the door opening on his first knock, revealing a disheveled teen wearing bland looking clothes which didn’t fit him too well. There were dark spots on his otherwise boring and cheap looking outfit. He looked almost dead, and as rust red stares into a dull green, only one thing could be spoken; “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?”

Instantly the teen had a response, shouting back, “YOU ARE WHO? HOW ARE YOU DOING!?” Katsuki was taken aback by the shitty grammar, the sloppy pronunciation, the broken sound of this person’s Japanese causing a short circuit in Katsuki’s brain.

His mind kicked back to life after what must have been less than a second as he continued staring at the sleepy teen with dull eyes, coming back with a retort. “What the hell are you doing in Auntie’s house!” Not waiting for a reply, he turned to look at the skeleton, shouting once more, “who the fuck is that!?” His mind churned out another conclusion. Both this weird teen and the skeleton looked like they could kick the bucket at any moment - he probably did too, but that was beside the point. “Is that a fuckin’ ‘nother one?” He pointed at the boy in the doorway, turning back to the weird person as his mind attempted to explain what exactly was happening.

His head started to hurt as his breath quickened. ‘Could he be a robber? Villain? One of those homeless people the hag and geezer are always bitching about? Government? Fuck no, that’s a stupid fucking idea. Where’s Auntie? Dead? Did they kill her? Or is she out of the house? Either way, fuck this guy - I’ll kill him for fucking with Auntie’s things!’ Katsuki flexed what little muscles he possessed as he lowered himself, pulling his left hand from his pocket and spreading his fingers, readying a blast for this damned burglar.

Being pushed back as though he was nothing by the skeleton, Katsuki was put behind the government stooge. Katsuki was puzzled for a moment as he realized the stooge was acting as though this was perfectly normal, as though he wasn’t staring at a burglar or thief. “Oi, skin sack, do you know this guy?”

“Yes,” Bones replied with a short answer before beginning to talk to the boy in not Japanese, but rather something he knew precious little of: English.

[ME JOKE FUCKING?] Katsuki barked, trying to say “Are you fucking kidding me.” Whether or not he succeeded wasn’t something he could tell, though it certainly got the attention of the two, no wait three. Wait, three? Another one of them had popped up out of nowhere. This one was a girl, with shoulder length auburn hair, which covered one of her eyes, the one visible being amber in color. A red cord tied around her waist connected to a feather she held close to her chest by a gloved hand, as though something that stupid could do anything - though their was the possibility of it being her quirk.

“NONSENSEeee!” the Skeleton bleated, a projectile spurt of blood coming from his mouth which scared the two miscreants back into the house, one of them shouting something Katsuki couldn’t hear.

[Me joke fucking?] resounded as a more familiar voice and face came into view, the disappointed countenance of Auntie staring at him. His blood chilled at the death stare she shot at him, [English, I know little,] she offered back to him as he swallowed back any hopes that he might get out of this scott free.

* * *

Sipping on the tea timidly, glad that Auntie still kept around his favorite raspberry blend, the kind that only she made with her personal stores of various tea leaves. He’d calmed down significantly since the ruckus he’d caused after seeing the boy at the front door, now identified as Izuku, which he could hardly believe given, well, basically everything. “Sorry for cursing Auntie, I was really worried that someone had broken into the house and that you were in trouble, I’ll be a bit more careful with my language from now on,” Katsuki apologized to his Aunt, the person he could most easily open up to given their shared experience, the only person who didn’t see him as damaged. It was nice stopping by her house, he really shouldn’t have stopped coming as often.

She seemed satisfied with his sincere apology, nodding with the knowing smile he was used to seeing on her face whenever he’d come to her with problems. With a sip of her own tea, Auntie set down her tea cup with a satisfied sigh, stress visibly melting off her, well, not visibly, she still was clearly tired like usual, but she looked somewhat relieved. “See that you do, I really wouldn’t like for either Izuku or Shana to pick up any more bad habits,” she sighed as she picked up a biscuit, dipping it in her tea - he wasn’t used to her enjoying tea and biscuits that was a westerner thing, like, England westerner. “As it is they already both have so many, case and point, neither of them see anything wrong with taking candy from a baby!” Auntie said clearly as a joke, but it didn’t land all that well. With another heaving sigh, Auntie nibbled on the biscuit before continuing, “oh well, he’s certainly gotten a bit better, at least we can do laundry without him getting upset, though we still have issues with him writing all over the place and Shana starting fires in the backyard.” Katsuki twisted in his seat to gaze out at the backyard, finding there was indeed a fire burning in the backyard, unattended, but something about it seemed off to him. It seemed to wave in an unearthly manner, as though it wasn’t fire at all.

Katsuki wasn’t sure how to even address the weirdness that his childhood friend supposedly had become, and everything had been pretty confusing already. He’d more or less been told to have some tea and calm down, advised by the bag of bones that the two of them might attack him if he upset them, which was pretty weird for Katsuki to think about. The Izuku he knew was pretty gentle, and always had been smiling, bright eyed, all that usual kid stuff, even in pictures he looked happy. This Izuku on the other hand, he just looked… off. “How, or I guess, what exactly happened? When’d he even get back? And how does something like him stealing candy from a baby even come up in conversation?”

“It’s a bit of a long story Katsuki,” Auntie offered with a tender smile, tilting her head as she breathed in deep, stifling a yawn. “I don’t even know if I could tell it all that well,” she offered abashedly, picking up her tea cup and sipping gingerly.

Katsuki rolled his eyes, she’d usually be like this. The sort of person to downplay events that had happened, “Auntie, it can’t be that bad. We’ve both had our fair share of retelling the events of that day to the police, reporters, investigators while looking for him; I’m sure you can recount the story just fine. Even then, how crazy could it be?”

Auntie breathed out a chestful of air as her warm smile and tired eyes locked with his, “Well, I suppose I should start with the call…”

An hour later, Katsuki was suffering from some mental blowout regarding the tale.

“...so then imagine my horror when I walk outside following the smell and find the two of them cooking the seabirds over one of Shana’s fires! Bare in mind this was the first time I’d seen her make one of her many, many fires,” Auntie heaved a sigh of defeat. “She’s a little, oh, what do they call it? Fire Keeper? Yes, she refers to it as being a Fire Keeper, though, it’s really just her way of saying pyrophile I think.” Auntie paused to drink down the rest of her third glass of tea, Katsuki barely having been able to finish a single of his own. “Anyhow, after that Brent brought over Izuku’s sword thing and had the two of them take a test of some sort, which given Shana couldn’t even read at that point, was, well, interesting to say the least.” With that, Auntie set down her tea cup, one last sigh before she leaned back, “we still haven’t gotten the clearest explanation of what sort of monsters they’d been held captive by.” Auntie shook her head, letting out a low moan of pain, reaching for the ever ready bottle of painkillers, some of which Katsuki had already taken as the story had given him a migraine simply trying to follow - especially the parts about what Izuku had said about where he’d been kept. The story was insane, and from Auntie’s retelling, it also sounded like Izuku and Shana were just as insane.

“I take it back,” Katsuki muttered, keeping his voice low to prevent hurting Auntie with any loud noises, “that was as long as any other story I’ve heard, and about twice as confusing.” Katsuki’s shoulders slumped as he leaned back into the chair reflecting his Aunt, “There’s one thing I don’t get though…”

“Only one thing?” The skeleton interrupted with a smirk. To which Katsuki shot him a dead eye.

“One part I don’t really get, why didn’t you tell us? I know that the old hag and geezer would have wanted to help just as much as me, so why didn’t you tell us?”

Auntie closed her eyes, shame washing over her, telling Katsuki everything he needed to know, as well as proving one of his suspicions to be correct, “I… I forgot,” she muttered in a weak voice.

Katsuki nodded to her admission, rubbing his temple a bit to help with his headache while his other hand slipped under his leg to keep it warm, attempting to speak but needing to clear his throat first, “it’s okay, just don’t forget to tell them soon, they slapped the, uh, they slapped, um, they slapped Mr. Yagi earlier.” It was awkward to self censor like this, but supposedly Izuku and his weird redheaded girlfriend were both starting to relearn Japanese and had been like sponges, or the redhead at least, Izuku was supposedly having trouble. He couldn’t exactly swear around them, especially not while Auntie was sitting right there.

“My boy, your concern is truly quite touching,” the yellow suited skeleton decided to joke, wiping away a deceitful tear from his eye.

“You still have something on your face,” Katsuki lowly rebuked, miming a slap, “maybe you should talk to my parents to get some more help with it.” Wasn’t the best move to recycle his joke from earlier, but it still felt somewhat fresh to Katsuki, and it did earn a slight smile from Auntie, so overall it had been a win. Excusing himself from the conversation, Katsuki decided to wander over to the pair of Izuku and Shana, both of whom were sitting on the sofa flicking through the channels on the TV without a care in the world. They both shot a glance at him as he walked over, sending a clear message of stay back, forcing Katsuki to take up the cushioned chair rather than the couch.

* * *

_“In other news, the Dathomir ward has appointed Eesta Maul to the position of-”_

_“Howdy kids! Are you ready? Oh! I’m a GOOFY GOOBER YEAH! YOU’RE A GOOFY GOOBER YE-”_

_“No! Chair-senpai, we can’t!”_ _  
_ _“Ah, but Tomoko, we can, our love-”_

_“Sunday! Sunday! Sunday! And Saturday. QFC TAKES OFF TO NEW HEIGHTS AS THE NEW COMER TRIUS: The Three Legged Bandit takes on all challengers. Be there!”_

[Izuku, that appears rather interesting, and we must attend, the flashing man in the fine clothes demanded it of us, just as well, the screen man declared that all challengers would be accepted.]

[Bah, there is no point in attending such a thing, blood sports are all of the same sort, be they the battles in Ariandel, Gundyir’s old challenges or that old Battle of Stoicism in Oolacile. Though, this QFC sounds somewhat interesting, perhaps. I will broach the subject with Brent when he arrives.]

[Of this I understand, though, I believe this is the first I’ve heard of your time at the Battle of Stoicism…]

* * *

Whatever the two of them were talking about, it was probably related to how shit the TV was, that certainly wouldn’t have changed in the last ten years, commercials were still as boring as ever. Katsuki, due to his fucking weak ass body had been forced to get used to watching the TV whenever he was even a little tired, his perpetually shit mood and weak constitution being all the reason for the old hag and geezer to lock him up in the house, telling him to watch TV, dick around on the internet, read a book, just about anything that wasn’t physical.

Actually, on the topic of physical, Izuku and the redhead both looked to be in pretty good shape all things considered. Well, Izuku was still pale as hell, and his tired eyes looked like they belonged on a corpse, but his arms, hands and physique looked to be well trained, used and worn - from what Katsuki could tell. Shana also looked somewhat strong, but something about her demeanor didn’t give off the same energy as Izuku, the sort of vibes that probably could give the hag a run for her money in scariness - if he was actually a bit taller especially. Izuku was always a bit shorter than Katsuki, and that seemed to still hold true, though, unlike Katsuki, it seemed that Izuku was faster on his way to getting facial hair - not that it was even allowed in schools.

Looking back at Bones and Auntie, he regards them as they appear to be having a pleasant little conversation, the odd bit of English being worked in. Katsuki too would likely need to improve his English if he wanted to actually talk with Izuku given how he was now more fluent in English than Japanese. Katsuki supposed it would also be nice to have someone practically fluent around - English was one of the subjects he struggled with the most academically. Having two ‘native’ speakers would probably help with that. A knock on the door sound through the room, with Auntie quickly calling over to him, “Katsuki, would you mind getting the door?”

“‘Kay Auntie,” Katsuki called back, climbing out of the comfortable lounge chair and walking to get the door. Another new face greeted him at the door, this time not some pale teen, or weird redhead, but rather a proper man, guy, dude, adult person. He was probably a bit taller than the geezer, wearing faded jeans and a flannel shirt. His head was buzzed and the stubble of his beard flecked with grey like salt and pepper. Under his right arm was a large box of some sort, the label side facing into the man’s side, it looked expensive based on the finish. He was almost certainly a foreigner, and Katsuki didn’t hesitate to ask who he was.

“The name’s Brent J. Hickok,” the man replied with Japanese that certainly sounded like that of a foreigner, “I’m just stoppin’ on over to see how Ink and the kids’re doing, and to drop off this here translator gadget.” That explained most of who he was, well, it actually explained everything given the context that this man, Brent J. Hickok was the hero who’d brought in Izuku and Shana, as well as their partial legal guardian, or something like that. Saying something in English, Katsuki was surprised to find that both Izuku and Shana had somehow appeared behind him, both looking at the hero with determined expressions.

‘How the hell did they get behind me so quickly?’ Katsuki mentally gawked as they spoke with the cowboy in English, Izuku eventually grabbing Katsuki and pulling him out of the way to let in the guest. His hands were as caloused as Katsuki had seen, rough against his arm, scratching him. Released from the grip of his estranged friend, Katsuki looked down at his arm where he’d been touched, expecting something that wasn’t there. Retreating back to the table, Katsuki decided on another cup of tea while the man offered pleasantries to Auntie and Bones.

Setting down the box at the far end of the table, this latest old guy started pulling out whatever was inside the box, “well, with any hope this should be more than enough to make talking with Izuku and Shanalotte a bit easier for ya Ink,” Katsuki was puzzled, it was the first time he’d heard the name Shanalotte, though it was pretty clear to him that it was the girl’s actual name. Auntie had admitted to having trouble with her real name, instead using a nickname for her. Shanalotte - Katsuki wondered if it meant anything.

“Oh good, as much fun as it has been learning English, I think this’ll make it a bit easier for me to understand him, without having to rely on you all the time Brent,” Auntie nodded with a smile as Brent placed the black translation device on the table, fiddling with it and plugging it into the wall. At some point, Izuku and the red head also found their way over, sitting next to one another, but Katsuki didn’t even notice their arrival, so it was entirely possible they walked over after Brent.

Brent gave instructions to Izuku, who moved towards the device, poking at it a few times quizzically before speaking as Brent directed. The moment he finished, the device began playing back the translation: “There is plenty of reason for my confusion regarding this odd obelisk contraption, though I shall indulge your desire for my speaking into this device - a translator you said? I fail to see where such a person might be hiding, and there appears to be etched with naught a single line of enchantment. I fear for your mind Brent.”

Katsuki was taken aback at his word choice, but moved forward undaunted to ask a question of his long missing friend, “Izuku, what happened to you?”

Izuku retorted with, “an innumerable number of things, please be a bit more specific with your questions, he of fire’s red eyes.”

Asking the more accurate question, Auntie took charge of the situation, pulling the device towards her before speaking, “Izuku, sweetie, where did you go? After you were taken.”

Izuku nodded as the question was translated into English for him, breathing in deeply before an unending tide of word began to pour from his mouth.

“The early days are of course hazy, though I will perform my best to adequately recount the sum total of where I went after traversing the divide and falling down upon the precipice of death itself, into that place betwixt life and death as I found myself aided by the unknown will of some ancient being and cat. A land in which death was common and undeath even moreso, a jagged pass between the rivers of astral above and the planes of daybreak upon which I strode with my filthy feet. Crossing through the forests and beyond the sea to the land of giants in search of some unknown thing before giving up and returning back to the homeland of the far flame, a realm of eternal daybreak under the watchful eye of that cat who pushed me down into the pit of corpses in an attempt to aid my journey once more…

“... having crossed through the mountain range, I found myself sat before the ruins of the kingdom of Heide, overrun with the innumerable armors of their dead knights and riders of those contemptible drakes who sought nothing less than to feast upon my flesh though I were nothing less than those same delectable pigs…”

“...It was at the base of this elevator that I spread out my search through the hidden cover of the mountain’s cove to stumble upon the haunted ship of the Varagian pirates’ right, though commanded at her helm by the sentry of the Bastille whose path I walked down, trudging through the belfry as had many others…”

“... It was at that time my mentor showed me the depths of the feeble frailty of undeath, unleashing his magics upon the door having stumbled across the means of unsealing that which was sealed by the old god’s meddling children…”

“... from there it is a proper mess until I found myself in the seat of Chaos herself, the old bat witches daughters and disfigured son all making their jabs at me while I attempted to apprehend the Knights of that old bastard child of Sunlight…”

“... Though eventually the princes did indeed bow down to their duty, granting me passage back into the academy of Veinheim…”

“... The great scholar himself, ol’ Seath of the archives…”

“... killing that old ladykiller Knight for the sake of ensuring the path would remain open…”

“... falling from on high down into the pit of ashes maintained as the world fell apart, curling into itself as that old man and child of her highness coveted the last embers of his lady’s dying, decaying grace…”

“... Such was necessary to return back to the mainland after which I was able to reunite with allies of old, or rather those who would not raise their blades at me, namely that madman who sought the death of my former mentor…”

“... Leaping into the pits of the blacked abyss with the aid of the dark diver Grandahl, my exploration of the dark chasm commenced, the final leg of my journey still far off in the distance…”

“... Falling out landed myself in the base of the pit of the tower Brume, though I knew it not at the time, it would require my return back to the keep which sat atop a lake of molten iron guarded by one of the old and ancient demons…”

“... traversing the path down into the depths once more was not something i would have expected, though nevertheless it was necessary as I’d learned of that sunken city containing that which i desired, which as per chance was how i found my present most beloved chimes…”

“... Bidding the slumbering beast goodbye, I was still faced with the problem of the knights who’d been sent to put down the creature for the final time…”

“... climbing out from that old pit was no easy task mind you, requiring the aid of that endlessly greedy laddersmith and ample bribery of that perverted cat…”

“... And so, for the third time, I stepped into the portal, traversing the abyss in search of the means of gaining the tool I would require for the end of my journey…”

“... With the aid of that Corvian woman, I was granted access into the depths of the abyss, treading upon my supposed birthright if the insane bird was to be believed…”

“... to wrap up that exploration I battled back against an Abyssal Bird who swore, either venganace or loyalty, I cannot remember truthfully, though I know the bird most certainly did attend my meeting with the angel which lurked in the Dark…”

“... So I was granted the rite to pass back, though it would take his assistance, and also required that I fulfil his last request before he succumbed to his immortality by his own hand. Thusly so, I sought advice from the cat once more…”

“... and such is the process which I would take were I to procreate, an important and vital thing I was required to learn for my final tasks…”

“...Tis only the common sense, to leap into the tree in order to gain access to that old fortress once more and the Aerie beyond…”

“... Which I refused, knowing that such a rite would necessarily mean a neglect of certain aspects, ones I was and still am unable to ignore…”

“... Leaping from on high, I sadly missed my jump resulting in landing in the shrine of those who guarded the path escaping from the castle, a new series of challenges facing myself and Shanalotte as we aimed to return…”

“... and so, having returned, we bid thanks to the head of the scholar of First Sin as he invoked the rite in exchange for his purported immortality, linking our path back once more, allowing Shanalotte and I safe passage, of course, the story does not end there, it would have been too easy…”

Fire cracked a popped as the flames sway ever so easily on their way, matching the ambiance of the waves crashing upon the shore, the tide receding once more, failing to reach the bonfire around which Izuku recounted his tale to Katsuki, safe within the little fortress built into the piles of junk and rubble which covered the whole of the beach of trash, Takoba. Leaning back into the repurposed driver seat, Izuku let out a sigh. Katsuki, nursing an ever present headache whenever Izuku got into the mood to continue recounting his absurd and crazy story which he himself described as ‘heavily abridged as to not lose the audience’s attention.’ Rolling his eyes, Katsuki responded with as sarcastic a tone as he could manage, knowing the idiot wouldn’t recognize it unless he was extremely heavy handed, “truly, it is a tale for the ages. Your story will doubtlessly be told and passed down from generation to generation as one of the few tales which are core to the identity of our very culture.” Climbing up from his own seat, Katsuki put his hand to his head as the thumping of his headache continued to pound away, “‘ight, I gotta get home, stayed out with you two too late last time, the hag’s got me on a stricter curfew now,” Katsuki bid to the two. Walking down from the elevated platform the two had somehow constructed, walking down and exiting, stopping before closing the car door turned fortress door. “Don’t forget, exams are tomorrow morning.”

“I understand Kacchan,” Izuku called back, still unable to call Katsuki by his actual fucking name, though it didn’t matter too much to Katsuki.

“We will most certainly not be tardy Kacchan,” Shana still being unable to say his actual name however was 100% her just fucking with him. She was already as fluent as any native born Japanese person.

Slamming shut the car door, Katsuki shrugged his shoulder as he slipped his hands into his pockets, setting off for the steps leading back up to the street, though paused as something caught his attention. Some nice looking rock called out to him, deserving a quick scoop and inspection. It was a nice rock, black like Izuku’s magic scepter, a bit rough to the touch, but in a way that felt alright, especially in his palm. It seemed to fit right in with his hand. Pocketing it without a second thought, Katsuki trudged along headed for the train station past Auntie’s house.

So much had changed in just the last two months, the small, almost completely abandoned retirement village-esk area around Auntie’s house had been nearly entirely razed, with the once numerous little houses having been torn down to be replaced with more apartment buildings. There had been one house which had undergone a heavy bit of remodeling, the one belonging to Brent. While other places were still under construction as new buildings were put up, his didn’t look much different with his propensity to leave training equipment laying about. That wasn’t even the most absurd part, the fucker had somehow managed to swing putting a gun range in his own house - how he managed that was absolutely beyond Katsuki. Though it had been pretty entertaining to see Izuku and Shana both freak out when they’d been allowed to try shooting one of Brent’s handguns. Izuku like usual seemed ready to beat the hell out of Brent, his years of being stuck with villains so insane he made up some bullshit story to explain it all bringing out that fear response of “attack.”

Katsuki shook his head at his certifiably insane friend and his equally weird girlfriend, cringing as his headache intensified. He could stop and take out one of his painkillers, but the hag had been counting them to keep track of whether or not his condition was better or worse. He’d bare with the pain, he couldn’t afford to miss entrance exams tomorrow because he’s in the hospital over nothing.

There was also Auntie’s house. It had once been a quaint little home, though it too had seen some remodeling to house its new tenant and her accompanying flame. It had been pretty strange to Katsuki when he first heard that Izuku was usually sleeping at Brent’s home while Shana stayed with Auntie, though, the reason why eventually became clear. Shana had absolutely no common sense as a girl. Auntie recounting the hectic first few months of her staying with them when it would not be uncommon to find her sleeping naked with Izuku, or stripping in the middle of the house, or offering herself to Izuku, or asking inappropriate questions, or trying to bathe with Izuku, or trying to go and hunt for food on her own, or forgetting to put on her house boots, the fact that she needed house boots was already weird enough. She had around a million reasons to be taught manners by Auntie, the one time that the old hag had been over, Shana had been caught eating raw fish she'd apparently swam out and caught, still fully nude in the backyard. Then there was the nail incident where Auntie had tried to teach Shana about makeup and nail polish, Shana ended up trying to drink a bit of the nail polish, ending up getting sick for a bit, but more damagingly, running around the house with bare feet, ripping up the wood. The most unimportant point was that Auntie wasn’t a coffee drinker, so there wasn’t coffee in the house, which was good considering it apparently offended Shana’s very fucking being.

So Shana lived with Auntie, who tried to teach her how to be a normal girl, though from what Katsuki had seen, it was mostly in vain. She seemed utterly content to be a weird dragon mutant with a super potent healing quirk. Granted he’d only see her use it on Izuku, but reconstructing his arm after it had been crushed by a car was fucking insane for healing quirks. Her quirk didn’t even require any stamina usage on behalf of the target, making it infinitely more practical compared to any other he’d heard of, though supposedly there was a limit, she’d never appeared to reach it.

If only she could cure his fucking disease, because the fucking migraines were a bitch to deal with, though, focusing on rubbing the nice chunk of rock he’d picked up did help somewhat, giving him something else to occupie his mind with. It wasn’t much, but it sufficed as Katsuki made his way to the station.

Hopping the train like normal, Katsuki stood near to the door, knowing his stop would be coming up soon. It was a shame that the old hag and geezer had decided to move them more into the city proper, no longer walking distance from Auntie’s house, but rather, a five minute walk to a hospital. He had monthly check ups with some specialized team of doctors who, even a decade later, were still mystified by his and Auntie’s fucking condition. It was just a pain in the ass that he needed to go every fucking month, especially since he hadn’t even gotten sick in the last year or so. He didn’t like that he was so far from Auntie, not that it had bothered him before, it was mostly because he liked hanging around with Izuku and Shana, partially hoping she’d use her bullshit strong healing quirk on him - they certainly didn’t give a shit about using their quirks at the drop of a hat.

Though, they still vehemently denied even having quirks. Fucking dumbasses.

Once arriving at the station, Katsuki set off back to his house, Katsuki idly looked around him. Compared to the area around Auntie’s his part of town too had seen some work done. Potholes filled, street lamps replaced with those fucking bright as shit LED ones, sidewalks repaved, and less characters wandering about. It was a nice change in Katsuki’s opinion, there used to be a lot more teens wandering about at the current hour, and the odd smattering of wannabe thugs.

Ducking into a side alley, Katsuki leaned up against the wall as his migraine returned with a vengeance, Katsuki grit his teeth as he waited for the pain to pass, eventually sliding down the wall, curling into himself as the overwhelming pressure made it feel like his head was on fire. Putting his head between his knees, Katsuki held back any sounds from escaping as he rubbed his temples before fully palming the sides of his head, trying to cool it down with his cold hands. The pounding of his head would not calm, as though an entire orchestral percussion section were playing 1812 Overture’s finale, and using more than just a few cannons. Katsuki’s breath quickened as he waited for the wave of punishment to pass by, unfortunately, by the time it did, he’d already ended up vomiting from the immense pain.

Weary and dreary, head hazy, Katsuki pulled out a tissue he kept on him, bought for him by Auntie, wiping away the splatter on his chin and clothes, cringing as it came away with more of that black stuff. Blowing up the disposable thing with a quick and small use of his quirk, Katsuki found his way back to his feet with the help of the wall, ducking out of the alley and heading back to the condo complex. 

Checking in with the old hag and geezer had them being glad he’d gotten home in time for curfew, a quick snack and he was off to his room, taking a shortstop in the bathroom to check himself over once more, warm up his hands, normal stuff. He could have studied for the exam tomorrow, but after the pounding headache and throwing up his partially digested dinner, he wanted to sleep. The moment he hit his bed, he passed out, exhausted, like normal.

* * *

The ambiance of traffic is one thing which neither Izuku nor Shanalotte take particular joy in, both more appreciating the now distant sounds of that one bird and the wind blowing leaves, yet still, a certain appreciation was inevitable. Having spent nearly a year’s time within this land of Japan, their adaptation has been quick, from their own perspectives at the very least. Their forming of a bond with Katsuki had certainly been something Izuku had not foreseen, though, he’d also not foreseen Brent becoming a mentor figure, or, as the man so thoughtfully put it, a parent. They were leaving some specialized building, the stonework nothing special to this world, though it still amazed both Izuku and Shanalotte that such talented stonemasons were in such abundance in Japan. The building had been dubbed a “testing center” which did take Izuku back to his tenure at the Dragon Academy of Vinheim, though that school did not require such obtuse testing areas. It was Katsuki who took the initiative in sparking up a conversation as the trio made their way to the train station. “Close to none of that shit was on the prep guide, like seriously what the fuck were those dumbasses thinking having all that bullshit,” complaining, something this decrepid boy seemed to do quite frequently, and with ample colorful language, how delightful.

Nodding along with his desire to complain, Shanalotte did not hesitate to aid his complaining, politely adding, “indeed, twas as if the proctor sought out some other force from the students, I doubt I would have done well without Brent’s teachings, as well as those ones from that college you frequently speak on, the Ew Ayy? Was it? How did it fare for you, O'Savior? Did the language and reading give you difficulties as usual?” Shanalotte prodded with her typical polite tone, tilting her head and upper body forward as was supposedly common for girls in Japan when asking a question. Izuku was fairly certain he’d seen someone do it at some point, though it was clear enough to him as to why it would be done. The flaunting of breasts was something he’d been told about by Sweet Shailquior as one of the unique weapons women held over men in social situations.

Izuku did not respond quickly enough, and so it was Katsuki who responded to her, “the proctor isn’t the one who wrote the test Shana,” Katsuki responded with a sigh. “And I’ve told you this a hundred times before, it’s U.A. not Ew Ayy, stop being an idiot.”

“I apologize Kacchan, however, you interrupted Izuku, I advise you hold your tongue and allow him to speak,” Shanalotte rebuked, not offended at the use of the nickname as Izuku was on occasion. “Izuku?”

“It was not the hardest test. Math was easy, as normal,” Izuku responded with his usual weak Japanese. Shanalotte’s innate talent for learning and manipulation was what helped her develop her language skills quickly, whereas Izuku’s lack of talent for language made it difficult for him. That said, he was still a “genius” by the regards of Brent when it came to his mathematics and sciences, though he did not think of himself like that having seen true geniuses in his travels. “I still fail to see why we’re expected to attend this academy.”

“Izuku, you’re really still this stupid? I told you, it’s high school, it’s to prepare us for our adult life and for college beyond,” Katsuki explained as he crossed the street, having to pause for a second while Izuku and Shanalotte paused to look both ways, a teaching Brent had instilled in them.

Boarding the train was normal enough, Izuku and Shanalotte had rode on it more than once in the past year, though they still thought it odd that there was no separation between common folk and those of higher status, which Izuku and Shanalotte would doubtlessly be given their parent being one such of high status, a hero. There was still the oddity of the agreement to not speak, one which Izuku and Shanalotte did not follow as they felt no compulsion to do so, especially when the odd hand would touch Shanalotte, leading to Izuku protecting his ally. A threat was often enough to force the deviant to concede, the odd flashing of his fangs too helped. It seemed to Izuku that the baring of one’s teeth was a means to show dominance in Japan, as much had been confirmed by Shanalotte in reference to the smiling hero’s ever present toothy grin.

{Izuku, do you suppose that this high school experience will be a beneficial one? Katsuki did suppose that it would aid us in preparing for living as adults, though I fail to see the difference between who we are now and adulthood.} Shanalotte questioned of Izuku, making use of the language of Lords as was normal for them, having found that speaking the common language could allow their words to be intercepted by others. It was somewhat heretical to make use of such a mighty language for such pedestrian topics, though, the security of it being a language which even the box of speaking could not understand did give credence to the protection it offered. Shanalotte was only versed in three languages at the moment, the Common tongue, the Lord’s Language, and Japanese, meaning that although Izuku would likely have found it more ideal to speak a language such as the one used by her ancestor dragons, she would not be able to understand him, and he was no teacher.

{I know not, though, I have recognized the reason we might not be considered adults, or having reached adulthood. I believe it is to do with our bodies, surely you too have noticed our growth has greatly accelerated in this world.} Izuku responded in kind, looking to his companion whose height had increased, though at a slightly slower rate compared to Izuku, who by his own assumption had grown almost a half inch in the time they’d lived in Japan under the watchful eyes of his Mother and Brent.

{I see, that would make sense, though from what I have seen, I am already somewhat tall for these Japanese, would that not mean that I am already an adult? I have lived for 300 or more cycles, I would not be surprised if I have reached adulthood.}

{You have grown slightly, so then I must assume there is more growth left, moreover, it seems grow is accelerated in this land, so perhaps you will obtain more of your draconic heritage before you finish reaching adulthood.} Izuku responded, thinking for a moment. {If you were able to obtain the abilities of your kin, then I certainly suppose that you would be fully grown.}

{Is that not contingent upon you accepting my offer?}

{It may well be, I would have needed to speak with Aldia for longer should I wished to know that however. In the meantime, there is little we can do, it is somewhat annoying, I was considered many things in the lands of your native world, adult being one of them.}

{I was only referred to as an Emerald Herald.}

{I am well aware, my Herald.}

* * *

Exiting the station, their conversation in their made up language having ended while on the train, Katsuki led Izuku and Shana towards Auntie’s house, knowing full well that Izuku couldn’t be left on his own, always wandering off and ending up somewhere he wasn’t supposed to, with Shana being about as bad at directions. They wouldn’t have had any difficulty getting to Auntie’s house, though if Katsuki were to guess, they likely would have gone to Brent’s instead since that was where Izuku lived. Then again, given the promise of food at Auntie’s it would likely have been more than enough to pull Shana there. Auntie, knowing the three of them would pass, decided to celebrate the exams, if a bit prematurely, they wouldn’t know if they passed for a week or so, but the party was going to be held anyhow. 

Brent had offered to pull out some of his old Texan skills, leading to the party becoming a barbecue. The moment the news was broken to the skeleton, who Izuku and Shana referred to exclusively as “Hollow,” he was invited as well. Not surprising since the skeleton and Brent got along pretty well all things considered, one being a westerner, the other being a massive westaboo. Honestly, it was surprising to Katsuki that Brent didn’t find the Skeleton’s fascination with America weird or cringy. Though, for the party today, the Skeleton had agreed to bring some side dishes fitting for the choices Brent had spoken on.

Baby back pork ribs, baked beans, coleslaw, pickled veggies, and some extremely well prepared homemade potato chips were all on the menu in addition to a few other choice selections Brent had asked Auntie to help with. He’d been very excited to get to barbecue, knowing that Izuku and Shana had no experience with the cooking process, eager to show them a bit of his native culture. Katsuki too, was excited, he’d heard good things about Texans and their barbecue ability, having watched a video or two online, it was already mouthwatering, though it did look horrifically fatty. Wouldn’t be a problem for Izuku and Shana, especially Shana, she ate as much as she wanted and never seemed to get any fatter. It could have had something to do with her and Izuku’s restricted diets - neither could handle strong flavors, especially sweets. He remembered one time he offered Izuku a piece of candy, Izuku ceased functioning for around 5 minutes while he tried to overcome the wave of sweetness. It was actually pretty funny, they were both willing to experiment and try new things, but almost every time they tried junk food, it completely shut them down. Though, they did also like some things Katsuki himself found disgusted by - like booze and fermented foods. Both of them found wine to be easily drinkable, the one time they’d gone to a restaurant and were allowed to try some of Brent’s whiskey and Auntie’s wine, both of them seemed right at home with the drinks, much to the surprise of Katsuki, the old hag, the geezer, Auntie and Brent. It had briefly led to the suspicion that the two were headed towards lives of alcoholism, but that line of thinking was dropped eventually, merely one extra insanity attributed to the two. 

Suddenly, Shanalotte picked up on something in the air, sniffing at it, raising her head to the scent before pulling Izuku along towards the house. Her enhanced sense of smell coming in handy to motivate her towards the food. Picking up the pace, the trio spotted an extra car parked on the street. It was a limousine, black and lime yellow, a weird as hell color combination. It obviously wouldn’t occur to Izuku and Shana, but it was odd to Katsuki, thinking who would be so extra as to have such a big car to drive them around, and one with such a poor paint scheme. The itasha truck Skeleton drove was definitely more painful to look at, but for a normal car, it was weird.

Walking into Auntie’s house, Shana forwent removing her shoes, instead running towards the scent of BBQ which had grown stronger, with Izuku having reminded her to wipe some of the drool from her face as he and Katsuki removed their outdoor shoes. It was mostly a pointless endeavor since Shana had destroyed the floors of Auntie’s house with her foot claws, but Katsuki still maintained it was the right thing to do, and without Shana there, Izuku complied with the request to change into his house shoes. “She really is obsessed with food, isn’t she?” Katsuki questioned more drawing attention to her ravenous appetite rather than being curious.

Izuku hummed in response, “for her, food is very important.” Katsuki rolled his eyes at the lame response, the two of them following Shana to the backyard where the party was happening.

Once outside, Katsuki took in the view, the smell, the people, the weird person wearing a suit who looked like the devil. There was a single person who stood out like a sore thumb, he was wearing a black suit, though his head was red with what looked like Katsuki as tribal tattoos. A crown of horns came from his otherwise bald head, a pair of predatory yellow eyes gazing over at him and Izuku. Katsuki thought for a second if he remembered ever meeting an actual devil like this weird guy before. It was however a mistake to introduce someone to Izuku without his prior knowledge as he pulled out a pencil from his pocket, brandishing it at the man as he threatened using his quirk. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” He threatened, some light appearing in his eyes, same as what happened whenever Izuku got pissed. Shana appeared next to Izuku, her feather at the ready, though what she could accomplish with her healing quirk was beyond Katsuki. She could do something with her fire, but what would that accomplish? Probably nothing.

Any discussions being held were put on pause as attention narrowed in on Izuku and Shana both of whom looked ready to shank a bitch. Auntie breathed an apology to the man as he made his way over to Izuku, “he is indeed as defensive as you suggested Mrs. Midoriya, though I would have expected him to have not paused and asked a question, you really have been doing a wonderful job in teaching him restraint.”

Restraint Katsuki’s ass, and apparently Izuku’s ass too as he began using one of his quirk’s abilities to manipulate the bonfire Shana kept alight in the backyard, forming a protective ring around Izuku and Shana, Katsuki having the wherewithal to step away from Izuku as his pencil exploded, shrapnel flying all over the place. Izuku said something to Shana, who in turn spoke to the man, “on your life, you will answer my Savior’s questions. He has already commanded as such once, we will not permit further disrespect, now speak, he who looks like those demented demons of Izalith’s chaos.”

The devil seemed impressed, stopping in his tracks, bowing to Izuku and Shana, “I am Eesta Maul, principal of Dathomir High School, and potentially your as well as your friend of the same name’s guidance counsellor, should you have passed the entrance exam of course.” Katsuki wasn’t sure how to feel about this man, Eesta Maul who seemed content to appear out of nowhere to bother their party, overstepping his bounds, even if he was principal of the school they wanted to attend. “Would you mind releasing your quirk? I would like to shake both of your hands as I would like to be on good terms with the two of you.”

“I am quirkless,” Izuku defied.

“As am I,” Shana added after a beat.

“Really? Then how are you manipulating all of that fire?”

“Flame Sorcery, are you a fool Demon? Is this not the ability of your kind?” Izuku gawked. “I’ve no plans to shake hands with some creature like yourself, begone or I will destroy you.” Classic Izuku, threatening away with that feral smile of his.

It was Brent who intervened, diffusing the tension with the offer of a slab of ribs for Shana, whose hunger forced Izuku to back down after being assured that the devil guy would be leaving shortly, which he did do. He bid them goodbye saying he was hopeful to meet them all again, leaving the party on that note.

The BBQ was indeed incredible, but Katsuki’s mind lingered on that Eesta Maul guy, Katsuki didn’t like his eyes, there was something off about them.

It didn’t seem to even occur to Shana or Izuku, or if it did, they didn’t show it, instead enjoying the BBQ, Shana crunching on the bones, Izuku eating like a normal person. Skeleton being threatened by Izuku and Shana. Brent laughing with the Skeleton while drinking some imported American beer, laughing loudly like Americans were known to do, his big and boisterous personality being akin to the personality All Might had, reflecting his time in America. Katsuki did suppose there was a difference between All Might, whose image was influenced by west coast American culture and Brent who was a Texas man. Brent seemed very happy, especially when he put on some American music and began to dance with Auntie, who laughed and smiled at his antics. Eventually Izuku and Shana joined in, dancing in a more ballroom-esk style, how he even learned that was, as with most things, beyond Katsuki, who was left alone with the Skeleton when his own parents joined in on the fun. All three couples danced in the afternoon sun.

Katsuki wasn’t jealous. Not at all.

* * *

A few days later found Katsuki walking down to the beach hangout with Izuku and Shana, thumbing the stone he’d picked up there the night before the entrance exams. It had been a good luck charm of sorts, not that it necessarily did anything, but he did enjoy keeping it around. It was a fidget toy if anything. “Kacchan, why are you playing with that titanite?” Izuku asked, breaking the comfortable silence as they descended down the steps towards the beach hideout.

“The what?” Katsuki replied, confused as to what the hell a ‘titanite’ could be. “Oh, you mean my rock? I just like playing with it, it feels nice in the hand, gives me something to distract myself with, helps with the headaches and stuff.” He didn’t hide from Izuku or Shana that he suffered from headaches, or the actual nature of his health. If Shana would be so kind as to use her quirk on him, then he’d likely fully recover, that certainly was the case with Izuku, who more than once had caught some disease which was washed away by Shana’s quirk.

“It is titanite,” Izuku confirmed, getting a closer look at the piece of rock, “a not indecent piece either.”

“Sure,” Katsuki agreed, rolling his eyes at the weirdness of Izuku, pocketing the rock as they carried on with their walk.

“Kacchan, I have a question,” Shana spoke up, putting on a cute voice.

“Yeah?”

“If you enjoy playing with it, is the current form of that piece of titanite somewhat inopportune for such things? Would it not be better made into a ring such that you could always have it with your person rather than as a separate item?”

“I’ve only had it for a couple of days, and it’s a rock, I don’t know anyone who can make a rock into a ring,” Katsuki responded before shaking his head and sputtering, “why the fuck would I even want a fucking ring? What the fuck?”

“It is titanite Kacchan,” Izuku corrected as the trio entered the beach hideout, passing through the husk of a car whose door still latched and sealed nicely. Izuku started to speak in Japanese before falling back on his english, [Katsuki, Shanalotte makes a good point about the idea of changing that piece of titanite into a ring. Though, I somewhat doubt anyone else in this land possesses the knowledge necessary to manipulate titanite, unless you know of some blacksmith who might be willing to offer aid?]

“I only got maybe half of that,” Katsuki responded, looking to Shana, “translate?”

“Izuku could turn that rock into a ring Kacchan, also do you know any blacksmiths?” Shana explained, crawling through to the interior of the hideout. 

“How varied is your friggin quirk dude?”

“I am quirkless,” Izuku responded, sitting down in his seat, “just like you Kacchan.”

“Nope, fucking, nope! I have a quirk dumbass, just like you,” Katsuki bemoaned, throwing his head back, sighing in consternation.

“Is that so? I have not seen you make use of it even once,” Shana noted, “I was under the assumption that like Izuku and I, you were quirkless.”

“You both have quirks,” Katsuki whinged to them, “and my quirk is called Explosion. I sweat nitroglycerin and can cause it to explode. Have I really never shown it off?”

“Not once.”

“Never.”

Katsuki thought hard for a moment, looking at his hand, it was cold, but a bit sweaty right now, reaching forward and releasing a small explosion, “I’m holding back because we’re inside, but I can make a bit stronger of an attack, probably big enough to blow away a car or something,” Katsuki boasted, with both Izuku and Shana marveling at him. Their marvelling soon changed, “is there something on my face?”

“Something from your nose, it looks like blood,” Shana reported, leaning back on the backseat turned couch. Izuku in comparison continued to stare without a care in the world, his eyes still dull, but somewhat focused on Katsuki’s hand or where his hand had been when he used his quirk. It weirded him out as he brought out a tissue and wiped away the spot of black blood, aiming to toss it into the bonfire when Shana protested. “Do not toss that into my bonfire Kacchan, I will make you suffer should you treat it as a disposal bin.”

“Trash bin,” Katsuki corrected, pocketing the tissue, not willing to go against the obstinate dragon girl. Izuku’s continued blank stare was starting to weird out Katsuki, so he chose to address it. “Oi, Izuku, you okay? You’re just kinda staring off there.” It took a bit of time, and a snapping of his fingers in front of the weirdo’s face before a response came. Unfortunately it was in English.

[Yes, I am quite well, your concern is unneeded Katsuki. I can work with that, yes, I certainly can. Oh it would be quite interesting to see how it functions. It would be like wouldn’t it? You also possess such things, and to have found and drawn yourself to titanite is to be expected of course. Of course, of course, of course, heeeheee.] He was starting to do that thing, where he’d be a rambling and raving lunatic for a little, that was annoying. “Kacchan, might I inspect that piece of titanite a bit closer?” Oh, he stopped quickly. Without a second thought, Katsuki tossed it over to Izuku who caught it. “Thank you.”

“Just don’t run off with it, I can’t be chasing you down.”

“Why might that be?” Shana questioned, completely oblivious apparently.

“Because unlike him,” Katsuki directed her attention to Izuku, who was looking at the rock closely, “I’m actually sick, infected with whatever weird ass disease the villains from the attack infected everyone with. Have you not noticed this?”

“I have, but I would not call it a disease.”

“What would you call it then? Huh?”

“A curse.”

“It’s a disease Shana, not a curse. You two might be super invested in your bullshit story about magic and dragons and giants and fires, but I’m not. I live in reality, it’s a disease.”

“I assure you I know what diseases are, you are cursed.”

“Really,” Katsuki asked with a mocking tone. “So how do I fix that huh?”

“I could, but not here,” Shana admitted, “and certainly not now, I am too weak.”

“Bullshit, I’ve seen you heal Izuku’s whole fucking arm on multiple occasions.”

“My miracles are still sealed, Izuku has not finished his research into resolving this issue Kacchan, at the very least, you will need to wait.”

“I refuse to believe that, your quirk isn’t sealed, or, your miracles aren’t sealed, you use them all the goddamn time.”

“I cannot offer you a Caressing Prayer which would cleanse your curse, that is the sum total of truth at this junction in time Kacchan.”

“Bullshit, give it shot you wack ass half dragon.”

“I would not work, your curse-”

“It’s a disease, not a curse,” Katsuki interrupted. “Why not give it a shot? What are you chicken?” Playground insults, apparently the thing that both Shana and Izuku would absolutely fall for… fucking playground insults.

“Shanalotte, do not fall to his tempting,” Izuku pipped up, tossing something at Katsuki, which hit him in the face. “Catch.”

“Oi, you’re supposed to say that before you throw,” Katsuki barked at Izuku, reaching down to see what he’d thrown at him. It was a ring, one he didn’t recognize from the ones that Izuku and Shana normally wore. “Also where’s my rock?”

“You’re holding it.”

“This is a ring.”

“Made of titanite, made of your rock.” Katsuki raised an eyebrow at Izuku’s weird declaration that this ring was his rock. Looking at it, it certainly looked to be made of his rock, same color and shade, even the texture wasn’t far off. There was no way that Izuku could have made such a thing from his rock in the time he was talking with Shana, that was simply impossible. This ring was engraved, the face of the thing looking like the same sort of thing as Izuku’s scepter, the planetary model which sat at the top, the part that spun whenever Izuku used his quirk. “Kacchan, may I speak in English?”

“Sure, but keep it simple.”

“Thank you,” Izuku nodded, clearing his throat before continuing in English. [Allow me to be clear, there are things I’ve not told you, I might have told them to Shanalotte as she is my Emerald Herald, but that is beside the point. I assure you, that ring is made from your piece of titanite, made with an expressed purpose, one which will become apparent should you accept that ring is your titanite and place it on your left ring finger.]

“Isn’t that the one meant for wedding rings? I thought you planned to marry Shana,” Katsuki snarked, looking back down at the ring. 

Izuku spoke something to Shana who at the same time as him raised her own left hand revealing they were already wearing rings on their left ring fingers. [I assure you, it was specially made to work for you.]

“How the fuck did you even make this thing? You didn’t even leave the hideout or pound metal or anything like that,” Katsuki scoffed, starting to try putting the ring on his finger as directed. Maybe it was part of their weird game, like after he put on the ring he’d be a part of some special group allowing Shana to heal him.

[With old magics, the sort that are apparently not known in this world, namely the cold flames of the Deep and Abyssal Chasm,] Izuku explained, as Katsuki finished fitting the ring to his finger where it fit snuggly, but not uncomfortably, as though it had always been there. [It is bound, none other may wear it until the time of your death,] Izuku explained with a grim tone.

“Excuse me? What the fuck?”

“No one else can wear your ring Kacchan,” Shana explained, probably thinking he was lost with the English. He understood what Izuku was saying well enough, but it sounded like utter bullshit, so he didn’t believe him.

[Indeed, they would find it increasingly difficult to wear, the weight growing until it snapped their finger clean off, or so I would think. That is only the third of its sort, the first was lost in the lake of molten iron as was much of my things, and the second is held by a dragon, though I know not where that creature resides these days.] 

Rubbing his temple with his left hand, the one the ring now adorned, Katsuki let out a sigh, his headache of dealing with Izuku’s bullshit subsiding for the moment. “Why would a dragon even need a ring? Aren’t they supposed to be immortal all powerful gods?”

[He was but a pup, only as grown as Shana when I first received her, only far smaller, and as a purebred dragon, immensely weaker and less ready for the business of the world. I also could not accommodate that little dragon at the time, thus I chose to entrust that dragon with a token of support, to calm him down as he laid in the corpse of his mother and kin.] Katsuki sighed as he recognized this was probably Izuku talking about a real person who he’d helped after the villains who kidnaped him killed this other person’s parents. That must have been pretty fucked up, and it certainly sounded as though Izuku was serious about it, so there was no reason to think that under the delusion he wasn’t seriously thinking of another child.

“So what happened to the kid?”

[I know not, I believe he was taken in by the Gods and raised to do their bidding… or so I have been told.] So the kid was probably dead, that was pretty sad and a major downer. 

“You really suck at small talk, you know that Izuku?”

“No, Kacchan, I don’t know that,” Izuku responded, switching back to Japanese having finished his little story. Katsuki leaned back, holding up his hand to the bonfire to inspect the ring he’d been given. It fit weirdly enough, and he could afford to play along with Izuku and Shana’s delusion for a little while, this was certainly harmless enough. He might get some lip from the old hag, but that didn’t matter too much if he could end up getting Shana to fix him.

Pulling out his phone, Katsuki checked the time, “it’s getting late, our folks will be wanting us back soon, we should probably get going,” Katsuki advised, sliding his phone back into his pocket, getting up to his feet.

“Hey Katsuki?” Izuku asked with a bit more energy than his usual indifferent tone, the one he wore whenever he was speaking Japanese.

Turning to face the boy with long green curls and a still untrimmed forest green beard like Brent, the boy held out his hand, offering something to Katsuki which was revealed to be a small pouch of something. 

{ **Welcome to the Covenant** }

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I (Greatmouse) have a few questions for the readers:  
> There exists a proper set of rules for the magic system, would there be interest in seeing it explained?  
> Since the story is going to take place in part during High School, which clubs do you think Izuku, Shanalotte, and Katsuki would join? They do not need to join the same club, they also do not need to join a club.  
> For the QFC (Quirk Fighting Commission) mini arc, what would you like to see in terms of length and complexity? It would be Brent, Izuku, and Shanalotte centric.  
> This is probably a bit far off, but who would you like to see in 1-A and who would they replace? (I know Storm suggested dropping Koji Koda for Shanalotte)  
> What other fun slice of life stuff would you be interested in seeing?  
> What other characters would you like to see introduced early to form a relationship with Izuku, Shanalotte, or Katsuki?
> 
> Now then, time to drop funnies  
> Someone: *Mentions quirks*  
> Izuku and Shanalotte: We are quirkless
> 
> Brent: Yeehaw  
> Mr. Yagi: Yeehaw!  
> Brent: whoa there partner  
> Mr. Yagi: Howdy ho!  
> Brent: You're embarrassing
> 
> Katsuki: God, I sure with I wasn't actively dying from a mysterious disease  
> Shanalotte: Yes, it is a shame  
> Katsuki: Geeze I really wish someone with a HEALING QUIRK could fix this  
> Shanalotte: You should look into that Kacchan  
> Izuku: Yes, also we don't have quirks
> 
> Shanalotte: *calmly changing with Izuku*  
> Inko: STOP GETTING NAKED IN THE KITCHEN!
> 
> *Someone touches Shanalotte on the train*  
> Izuku: *drawing out pencil* I will blow you up
> 
> Izuku: This All the Might person is untrustworthy  
> Mr. Yagi: Is that so?  
> Izuku: Silence Hollow, I did not give you permission to speak  
> Shanalotte: Would you like to pass on today?


End file.
